Our Second Snow

My one arm flung off the bed. She kissed it gently, doe-eyed, ears back, almost apologetic asking me gently to wake up. I cocked one eye loaded with blur and shot her a look of dazed compassion.

This morning we awoke to a warm blanket of snow. After rolling over to find proof in the form of flake-laden branches just inches from my new bedroom window. Can I tell you I have always been overcome by the contrast of dark branches and white snow? I jettisoned years of reason and felt myself laying in my childhood bed in the north country where it is winter half the year long, fall for three glorious weeks and mud and mosquitoes the rest of the time. I made tunnels in that snow that sometimes came up to my chest. I n my sleepy pubescent joy I wrapped my arms around my puppy’s neck and stepped into my shoes while wiping sleep from my eyes and cooing “outside, outside, oh Pippa, wait until you see what is outside.”

On the other side of my front door the world was brighter and quieter. I watched her confused frame navigate feet sinking into snow, snow, snow. Running, kicking, biting snow. I stood and watched her until it was clear it didn’t matter that I was there, then I headed back upstairs to make a warm drink.

From the window I watched her pounce and claw and circle and skid. Everything is new to her. Everything is exciting. I longed suddenly for a family and a child, then three children.

Life is fleeting. It is a fleeting collection of more fleeting moments. It is a miracle to share them. There is no greater meaning than this: to stand at the back window with your lover, caretaker, partner watching the creatures you care for experience the world as if it was all brand new, as if it had always been here.

I dreamed up a massive pile of fluffy waffles with hot drizzling fruit and powdered sugar. My family and I could be eating big Belgium waffles while sipping hot cocoa and planning our sledding exploits and smiling, laughing and touching before throwing on thick layers to protect us from the cold, wet nature of fun.

But no, I stood at the window alone. I turned the coffee off and made plans for the day as I watched my puppy play. Buy a shovel. Shovel driveway. Go to gym. Lift weights. Go to store. Buy blender. Make a protein fruit shake. Take shower. Work. Return movies. Feed dog. Wash car. Scrub tub. Read book. Text message girlfriend. Fall asleep watching new movie rentals. Wake up, repeat.