We’re in one of the most beautiful times of the year; at least I think so. The weather is crisp and cold, and so, so dry, that I’m using up hand cream and lip salve by the day. We huddle in jackets and hats and gloves leaving the house in the morning in the low 20s, but turn our faces to the sun and embrace the warmth when afternoon comes. We absorb as much of it as we can, knowing that before long it will snow and we’ll hit winter proper.
Last weekend Red went to a meet and greet for his new ski race team, at 4pm, and despite the sun shining, it was a bitterly cold afternoon. In the shade of the hills, standing still watching the kids run around, the cold pierced our bones.
We walked, to get some warmth into our toes and fingers, and with Smalls on my back, we made the most of the pockets of sun we could find. At the top of the ridge, looking over the city, we made shadow shapes dance and run, and Smalls delighted in watching his shadow change shape. “I’m getting bigger!” he shrieked in delight. My boys are getting bigger every day, in the summer I feel as if I watch it happen as we open up for the sun all day every day. In the winter I don’t see that development, and I’m embracing the last threads of it before we hunker down for winter proper.