If you work in a downtown area, you understand the wind tunnel effect.
In the world of weather, it’s almost never dead calm. There is usually some breeze, a gentle zephyr wafting across the rolling countryside. Except, when it reaches a downtown area, there’s no place for the gentle zephyr to go as it runs up against office buildings and other barriers. The breeze gets channeled and concentrated along rigid streets lines, and suddenly that gentle zephyr has been converted into a focused blast that snaps the flag on the flagpole and lifts hats from heads and sends them tumbling along the sidewalk.
Let’s just say that the wind tunnel effect especially sucks during the winter. On a gray winter’s day like today, with the temperature plummeting, the cold core of concentrated air cuts to the very core, congeals the blood, brings tears to the eyes and a moan to the lips. The wind finds every crevice in your winter garb, sneaks between the layers of scarf and coats, ices the foreheads and reddens the ears. Pedestrians walk carefully, leaning into the chilled air, hoping to hold fast in the wind tunnel and just make it to their cars.
During the winter, the wind tunnel can bite me — and it does.