The weather has been wet lately – more than just wet, really; drenching, down-pouring, drowning, depressing, and all those other ‘d’ words you can imagine – and earlier in the week the universe decided to add another layer of miserable to it all with some freezing temperatures.
I’m pretty sure there is nothing worse than being frigidly cold and pelted with ice mixed into the rain. And to top it off, much to my dismay, I forgot my gloves, hat and scarf when I went out to run errands. Because, of course.
But then, yesterday and today, oh glorious gift of sunshine! I’d hurried Avery out to the bus stop at the bottom of the drive in the morning while it was still dark, and as we stood there waiting, grinding the toes of our boots into iced-over puddles, the sun suddenly broke free of the treeline in the east and bathed us all pink and golden with it’s light. The hills around us sparkled under a blanket of frost. Our breath was cloud. Our hearts were joy.
I’m not normally an enthusiastic performer of chores, especially outdoor chores, especially in the winter, especially before I’ve had my mandatory two cups of morning coffee. But out there in the sun, after what seemed like weeks and weeks of rain, crunching through the thin crust of ice on the grass while feeling the slightest hint of warmth on my cheek, I was happy. Happy to be outside, happy to exert myself, happy to talk nonsensically to the chickens while I tended to their food and water.
Cold, but blissfully, blessedly dry.
I was so happy that I decided to load up and bring more wood in for the stove while I was out. And I’m glad I did, because tomorrow the reprieve is over, and we’re back to rain and sleet, cold and drear. Or so the weather report claims.