Sunday, January 12, 18* Moon setting
Snow had stopped before we went to bed. I read more of Rhythms and Roads. Closed the book, turned out the light before I began dreaming into sleep. Awake before 5, not wanting more sleep. Light outside. Ruger walks to my door. What is the divine mystery of children and dogs that wakes them when I wake?
No more snow through the night; just enough weight to keep it in place without being heavy. I should wait but the shovel is light as I use the back to push snow out of place. The blade catches, stops. The cracking noise those very cold nights – it was not the boards but the screws winding out of place. The outside bulb, not enough bright. I will look at them when there’s more light. One swipe down the middle of the ramp, the gate will have to wait. Luna startled me. I took off and dropped my glove in the snow. I wanted her picture, but she was already behind the trees moving steadily out of sight.
Zsolt has turned around; his head reaching for my hand he can’t get to, so he bumps my arm making me type not what was intended until I pet him. Persistence, a quiet nudging.
Photo: LJ Austin
