Crisp Morning Walk

Checking the thermometer on the front window the red liquid indicates minus fifteen, I will have to bundle up in a thick coat, hat, scarf and gloves this morning. As I struggle to get Twinkle’s special doggie bootees and coat on I try not to hurry, knowing if I get too flustered I will become uncomfortably hot. Opening the front door I relish the coolness of the crisp morning air, the snow is sparkling in the early morning sunlight, small rectangular flakes glistening. As we walk down the long drive, the heat of the house gradually leaves my body, at last I start to cool down to a more comfortable temperature – hot flushes are no fun. My breathe clouds in front of my face and leaves little crystals around the edge of my scarf and hat trim. The snow puffs up in front my boots as Twinkle and I make a trail in the virgin snow blanket. The hoar frost and midnight snow fall have created a world that resembles a black and white photograph with small dashes of colour dotted here and there, a post box, a neon glow of a porch light, the deep green of a fir frond and a bleached blonde telegraph pole. Near silence surrounds us, broken only by the crunch of snow underfoot and the distant drumming of a woodpecker, franticly trying to find a grub or two. Twinkle stops trotting, ears pricked, looking ahead, intently listening, I stand still and wait knowing her hearing is so much better than mine. Emerging from a small copse of trees a large moose slowly walks onto the road and with a nonchalant glance in our direction resumes his amble across to the other side and disappears into the birch trees. How can such a large animal vanish so completely once he is amidst the trees? Twinkle and I continue on our walk, enjoying the near silence and the flit of small birds dancing along through the bushes beside us. Returning home to a nice cup of tea and a slice of toast, my alone time centers me and gives me peace.