the first snow
The first snow of the long winter fell this week. We knew it was early because the blanket of snow was liberally sprinkled with autumn leaves, and we had to scramble with the new snowplow. Thanks to Kyle and Kim, the boys were outfitted with boots and mittens, but my mind wasn't there. I found myself drifting to the California shore of last month, with its cypress trees and the surfers looping themselves down the rocky cliff, one hand on the guide rope, the other arm clutching a surfboard. As some of you know, when I get blue, my tendency is to go inward, and I'm not sure that's all wrong. I am building days with writing and yoga and children and bundled up walks with the dog. It pains me that suddenly the bog is buried under snow--I'm hoping the temperature will linger in the forties long enough to melt the path through to clear, so we can trudge through a bit longer. I went to visit a friend who is patiently suffering through a long stint in rehab after a long su