A Midwinter Awakening

There is snow in my boots.

My face stings from the cold, ears numb. My fingers are stiff, frigid even though they are gloved. I stuff them into my pockets to shield them from the wind. My steps are small, unsteady, as if my body refuses to respond to the below-freezing temperature.

This is the happiest I’ve felt in months.

I smile and breathe in the cold. Even Penny seems rejuvenated, her tail wagging excitedly as she takes tiny, quick steps along the frozen lake. Neither of us have gotten out much this winter. The darkness is seducing, keeping us trapped in what we believe is comfort and warmth. I lift my head to the horizon. The sun may be out of sight, but the clouds are full of color- pink, orange, yellow. Countless shades against a powder blue sky.

Penny pauses and looks back at me. Her paws must be frozen. I open up my arms, but she turns and trots away, her bright pink puffy jacket swaying side to side. I feel a pang of regret for not bringing her out sooner. My breath condenses into mist as I chuckle. Is it my dog or myself that I feel guilt for?

A gust of wind lifts the snow from the trees, showering us with frost. The flakes spiral and turn in every direction, freeing me from my mind. We’re here now, that’s all that matters.

With slush-filled shoes I trudge behind Penny, and the playful snow continues to dance.