In a Winter Daze
Wednesday, January 30, 2019
I
stepped outside onto the front porch, seeping in a breath of the crisp cool
air. A fresh coat of powdered snow
covered the ground. I slipped my sock
covered feet into my sister’s old boots and buttoned up my thick wool coat,
ready to take the trek up to town.
I
walked the old dirt road, the brisk wind flushing my cheeks. The sky was beautiful this time of day. A variety of pinks and blues interceding to
create a masterpiece of pastel perfection; the gentle moon its ideal
centerpiece.
I
walked into the town. Three young boys
were having a snowball fight in the middle of the road, and as cars came by
they hurriedly stepped to the side. Then
back at it they went. I walked into the
coffee shop and waved to the man who sat at the same table against the window
every single morning. His gray hair
neatly combed back, his spectacles resting on the edge of his nose, and the
daily newspaper grasped between his two firm hands, worn with age.
I took
a seat at the bar and ordered a cinnamon latte, a specialty this time of year. Outside the frosted window, I spotted little
Tommy walking his hound dog across the street, dodging the other boy’s
snowballs.
January
is a serene month. Its brisk winds and
harsh snows a cruelty to mankind, yet its invigoratingly fresh start makes you
flit with joy. It brings its challenges,
but more so it brings its vigor. Looking
around, bittersweet nostalgia floods my mind. But there’s also the sensational
feeling of what to expect in the future.
What might this year hold?
There’s so much familiarity as I recognize the regular sights that
refresh me daily, as I ease back into my winter daze.
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