We live everywhere. We inhabit every possible region. We consider it a dare against the utmost limits of being human to survive in harsher conditions than any previous generation. Not all of us, naturally. Some have recently discovered the pleasure of shaving with hot water, or olive-oil hand soap, and the usefulness of a bidet as opposed to taking showers every morning.
There seems to be a moment, though, when the protection of who we are is ultimately defined by our sense of endurance and fending for ourselves. The clouds are hanging low in this valley – still, I can see; I will walk the streets mouth wide open and drink from the steam in them; I will raise my arms up high and grasp fluffy tufts of nothingness, and what looked abandoned or inhospitable will – no, it actually already has – come to life.