It felt good to get out in the fresh air late yesterday afternoon as I had spent most of the day at my writing desk. The sun had already sunk below the Foothills so the temperatures had fallen quite a bit from the moderate high of the day. A slight breeze blew making me increasingly grateful for my ear muffs. Snow still lay on the ground with the sidewalks mostly clear. I gazed over the hill to the homogeneously white cow pasture and the thought crossed my mind again about whether cows are surprised when the grass disappears and reappears miraculously.
I walked at a brisk pace until I realized that quite a few icy patches remained, hardened and glassy ready to resist the grabbing rubber soles of my shoes and leave me supine gazing up into the darkening sky. So I slowed a bit and picked my way more carefully, looking down instead of up…not the way I prefer to travel. Was it a message, a metaphor for life?
And then I turned the last corner toward home to see an almost full moon in a clear mauve sky with a stripe of turquoise at the horizon. My feet stood on dry ground and I felt joyful.
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