Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Frostbite? Or, One of Those Moments You Hope Won't Ever Be Lost


It's 20 degrees outside and snowing.

This is a picture of the view from my house towards my corner of the world on my street in Denver. Yeah. It's snowing!

This morning it was clear and cool, but not cold. By the time I went to lunch I realized I didn't have a hat or scarf with me, and knew by 5:30 when I left for my bus ride home that I'd be wishing I had both. Today I watched the Rocky Mountains disappear, reappear, then disappear again.

My new office affords me a view of Mount Evans, and with it, a bellweather of what's to come. The mountains disappeared behind clouds for a while, then reappeared for a short time as the clouds ripped over the Rockies and turned around for another strike at the city.

So I went to Ross and bought a new hat and scarf, and sure enough by the time I went home the snow was flying.

I came home, and after an hour and watching the snow from my front window, decided to take a walk.

There are few moments in life that make memories. I remember consciously making a few memories -- one of my Mom smiling down at me as a young girl, waking up to my Dad's goofy grin when I came out of surgery after my appendix came out...

Tonight I took Lucy, my black Lab, for a walk in the snow. We headed over to Rocky Mountain Lake, just 10 blocks from my house, against the storm (in my new hat, which rocks, by the way). With my iPod plugged in, I listened to some of my favorite music, and soon realized as we approached the lake that we were completely and totally alone.

As we rounded the far end of the lake, I realized I wasn't ready to head home, so we went over to the ballpark and Lucy ran back and forth as I called her to run towards me.

There was a time when Lucy was a puppy that she ran free in a big open park like that in Yakima. Her tongue dangled and she gleefully ran up and down and back again. I remember thinking at the time that when she died an old dog, that that would be my vision of her running in Doggy Heaven. And tonight was another of the same kind of vision. My black dog running in the white snow, back and forth, gleeful that she was free.

I stood in the middle of this vast field alone in the quiet snow, not cold, but alone, and happy. I had one of those moments that I realized I didn't want it to end. I wanted to feel like that forever.

So after stalling a little longer, the snow falling faster, I started towards home. Lucy walked ahead, to the edge of the park where we head home, and I didn't go. I said "HEY!" and she came. We decided to loop around the lake one more time. Braving the cold, and hey, I was already caked in snow from head to toe, my feet were still warm along with most of the rest of me -- we headed around for another lap.

By the time we hit the far end of the lake, I was tired, but so glad we went again. This time, when we hit the end of the lake to go home, I was ready.

I may be sore tomorrow, but tonight I got to walk in the snow. It's one of the reasons I love living in Denver, and worth whatever frostbite I may suffer to make that memory.


annie said...

What an awesome post. Makes me wish for snow. Almost.

What it *does* do is makes me miss my dog, my husky. We have a dog now, but I miss *my* dog.

Thanks for sharing!

ssknh said...

You guys are winning the snow award so far... We are still getting 65F degree days(which is about 20 degrees above average)

Teri said...

I LOVE walking in the snow at night. It's like being in your own snow globe. Thanks for capturing it, yet again, with words.

ShielaLee said...

That was a great entry! Thanks for sharing (although I was on the edge of my seat waiting for you to say you were chased down by a masked serial killer!)


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