Come with me back to 2010. I am standing outside with a pair of rubber boots I threw on - no socks of course. It is January and I grabbed my huge white coat that makes me look like a walking marshmallow. I didn't zip it up so instead I hug myself stuffing my hands in my pockets, keeping the cold at bay. I stand ankle deep in fresh clean snow. Up in the sky I watch my breath float away towards the gorgeous full moon. The light of the moon is so bright that no stars can be seen for at least one outstretched-hand-length away and when the light hits the snow it lights up the whole field almost as bright as day. I can see the Milky Way. The sky is black as tar. The sounds I hear are comforting. A pack of coyotes yip and scream as the hunt in the night. Owls talk. Chickens murmur and cluck softly. I walk into the driveway and admire the beautiful snowflakes on the hoods of our suburban, truck, water trailer. They are incredible. I turn back towards the house and head inside. By this time I can't feel my toes. Our blue Christmas lights have faded since we put them up last year. Icicles hang from the roof.
Now, step back into the present. It's December. I am sitting on the short flower bed wall, bare feet planted firmly on our concrete sidewalk.
Now, step back into the present. It's December. I am sitting on the short flower bed wall, bare feet planted firmly on our concrete sidewalk.

