There have been missed opportunities. Storms have stacked up this winter one after another like bills, left in piles-expected, but not entirely embraced. Out of shape, I am unsure that I can slog through the depths with snow shoes. As I drive passed my favorite rolling hills with a perimeter of deep, magical woodland I long for those walks and Rex my dog gets excited. I feel guilty and recall a special day in April.
We decided to walk later in the afternoon when daylight stretched before us. Doggies in tow panting with noses smudging the car windows. Once at the field the dogs let loose running and zig zagging. Trudging up the hill through the once tall grass pressed by winter weight, we sat. Then we lay on our backs. Quiet. Content. Breathing. We squinted through the sun. Clouds filled the sky. We lost track of time.