That Winter

That winter morning in Gloucester might have been my first time ever seeing so much snow.

My Dad grabbed his mustard yellow biker jacket, made of rugged material, with Velcro. It had this aura of safety and security.

We headed out into the glowing, tranquil morning light.

He fetched his bike from the garage and attached a little seat stuffed with blankets to the back of it. And then somehow managed to stuff me into it!

Mostly, I remember the silence. Otherworldly, beautiful.

He slowly pedaled us down the empty road, as I looked up at the street lamps and fluffy snowflakes.

I was contentedly bundled up and overcome with wonderment.

We went in a slow drift over the fresh snow, for what seemed an eternity…