I’m sure I looked quite a character trudging up the road, bundled from top to bottom in those mismatched winter clothes from the cupboard.
But I felt warm wrapped in the scarf I knit myself with wool from Vermont sheep. Trudging up the road in my mismatched socks and clunky Sorels, I remembered the farmer’s market where I bought those skeins of grey yarn, happily chatting with the vendor about her sheep. Itchy as it is and uneven stitched as it may be, that scarf dresses me in memories.
These blizzard days off are magical in the way snow days probably only are for teachers and their students. Fresh air fills my lungs and pinks my cheeks This day after walk cleans all kinds of dusty places inside me. My pace is slowed, sun smiles on my face, and I’m living under the bluest sky I think I’ve ever seen. Suddenly there’s time. Time to think. To nap. To walk. To breathe. There’s beauty in my world and just down my road.