Saturday, April 16, 2011
We donned our snow pants, coats, mitts and boots, gathered up the dog and ventured out just before dark. We walked 15 minutes around the block and onto our usual trail. Crunching along in the snow we realized that it was the perfect consistency for easy, huge snowballs. The games began. We attacked each other, and the dog with huge, soft snow grenades and fits of giggles, the rest of the way home and then started all over again in the front yard.
The poetry tie in you ask...?
There is just something poetic about the exhausted feeling of peeling off your winter gear, tucking in your sleepy child and climbing into bed with that rosy cold feeling still left in your cheeks.