With the sun set, you can see your breath at night now. The water has this icy chill to it. Old Jack Frost is out there.
The dampness in the air gets into one's bones. It crawls up and into you through finger tips on beyond knuckles, up one's arms and legs.
When you breath out, low and slow from the depths of your gut, - Jack's signature lingers just out beyond the periphery of the senses.