The stay of January
So, January in Minnesota. Asher is asleep upstairs. The boys are playing in the basement. It’s snowing outside, and I am watching it accumulate in little hills on the fencepost outside.
I’ve found I don’t go outside much these days. I’ve been doing some writing, some organizing, and a whole lot of hibernating.
Last Wednesday Preston went to play outside with his little neighbor friend Ella. Asher saw them go out and tried to follow in his stockinged feet. When I stopped him, he collapsed in a sobbing heap on the floor.
It was toddler-speak for, “Mom, I have been stuck in this house for three weeks. I need to see the sky, feel the cool wind on my face, know that there is a living, breathing world outside these walls.” Or maybe it was my heart that said this.
In any case, we bundled up and I pulled him in his little sled down to the frozen lake. Actually, if you hadn’t seen it in summer, you wouldn’t know it was a lake at all, just a flat expanse of snow. The sky snapped bright blue. It was quiet. And very cold. We walked up and down the path until our faces went numb, then we turned around and walked home.
And it was just what we both needed, on a Wednesday in January. A reminder that everything is still alive, and beautiful really, just frozen for the time being.