THE WIND WAS biting and rose to a low roar in the ears. Puffy clouds clumped almost into rows, thinning the sun. Dry salt lay scattered at the mouths of intersections, left over from an expired and unrealized forecast. Here or there an unmasked nose or cheek showed, ruddy with cold. The sun strengthened until the twigs in the trees were shining. Sparrows twittered furiously. Here was solid, sturdy winter after the hot swings and gusts of the week.