Sunday, February 16, 2025, 16* Snowing
One sharp bark pierced the depths of sleep. Had there been others blended into my dream? Once that level of consciousness is breached for me there is no going back to sleep. I wanted to, instead I opened my eyes. I could see the blinds, must be close to 5, maybe 6. I listened. Snow was to begin at 4. No more barks. Prayers half said, I got up. As I pulled a shirt over my head a soft bark asked if I was awake, was I almost dressed, did I finish my book before falling asleep, would I tell the story of my dream.
“Good morning, guys. I hope you slept well too. I love you. Do you want to play in the snow? Soon. Let me finish lacing my boots.”
Happy faces waiting in the dark anticipate each sound, turning on a light, opening the door, letting Ruger out, walking down the hall, stopping to adjust the thermostat to turn on another light. At five there’s an inch of sparkling snow underfoot, painting evergreens, outlining oak tree limbs. Snow falls softly steadily flakes varying. Please stay snow, don’t paint this scene with ice.
“As long as the earth endures,
seedtime and harvest,
cold and heat,
summer and winter,
day and night will never cease.”
Genesis 8:22
Photo: LJ Austin
