Cold

I got to walk the dog this morning. And I’m glad, very glad. I got to taste a little of my wife’s morning addiction. The fresh snow was not only beautiful (cleaning up everything, even my dirty truck,) but it crunched. It was a sound that the little Rice Crispies guys could appreciate. The lack of any wind made the walk pleasant, even though the mercury was just a few notches kinder than biting. The little weather icon at the bottom right hand corner of my monitor still flashes “6.” To my international kids that’s a whopping -17 or so. But cold is good. It allows me to run and not get weary. And it makes it easier to chip away at the hardened snow on the driveway. And it gives me a chance to wear my best fashion statement—my leather and rabbit bomber hat.

So along with a healthy dose of gratitude to my Creator and a gladness of heart that comes with the pinks and blues of a morning sunrise, came a sense of sorrow for those who don’t get to experience a multitude of seasons. Winter rocks! Oh snow birds, what are you thinking?