My sweater feels heavy on me. It's a transitional period, where the cold weather and warm weather share the day. I know if I take off the layer, I'll be too cold. But I can already feel a layer of sweat forming, which will make me even colder in this chilly weather. I opt to keep it on despite my discomfort. I'll be home soon anyway, out of this crowded subway car and into the relatively short walk home in the evening air.

Daylight savings has just sprung back so the sunlight continues further into the evening than these past months. The air has been hostile, biting, and to go outside meant gearing up. With a few warm days teasing spring, I can feel myself taking larger breaths, opening up to the possibilities of the months to come.

A brief thought passes; a wonder of modern city infrastructure. Soon government-funded employees will be clearing streets of litter long encased in snowbanks, filling park ponds and fountains for animal and human enjoyment, carting pots of plants and young trees to enrich the city and provide happiness to its citizens. I think about the snow melting and wonder what effect it has on sewage and plumbing, a world under our feet and around us that keeps up our comfort. The utility companies keep energy flowing into our homes to power our electronics like fridges and televisions.

As I leave the subway platform, up the stairs and towards the subway, there is a man lying among a mix of belongings in and out of reusable shopping bags with a light blanket draped over him. Curled up, eyes closed, sleeping. I don't know how to feel. I've had a home with heat and electricity to return to throughout this winter season. Just as I don't fully understand the intricacies of modern city infrastructure, I have no idea what the homeless population does to be able to survive the harsh winter months.