From My Antonia The sun was gone; the frozen streets stretched long and blue before me; the lights were shining pale in kitchen windows, and I could smell
the suppers cooking as I passed. Few people were abroad, and each one of them was hurrying toward a fire. The glowing stoves in the houses were
like magnets. When one passed an old man, one could see nothing of his face but a red nose sticking out between a frosted beard and a long plush
cap. The young men capered along with their hands in their pockets, and sometimes tried a slide on the icy sidewalk. The children, in their bright
hoods and comforters, never walked, but always ran from the moment they left their door, beating their mittens against their sides. When I got as
far as the Methodist Church, I was about halfway home. I can remember how glad I was when there happened to be a light in the church, and the
painted glass window shone out at us as we came along the frozen street. In the winter bleakness a hunger for color came over people, like the
Laplander's craving for fats and sugar. Without knowing why, we used to linger on the sidewalk outside the church when the lamps were lighted
early for choir practice or prayer meeting, shivering and talking until our feet were like lumps of ice. The crude reds and greens and blues of that
colored glass held us there.
On winter nights, the lights in the Harlings' windows drew me like the painted glass. Inside that warm, roomy house there was color, too.
will
(from My Antonia by Willa Cather)
How does winter affect the narrator in this passage?
01. He plays on the ice to avoid being restless.
2. He struggles to find sufficient food and drink.
O 3. He feels a need to escape the dreary landscape.
04
He experiences a feeling of loneliness and isolation