a winter walk

The sky is a brilliant and cloudless blue as Rufus and I set off on our morning walk. I don't feel any wind at all, but twice the trees above us drop a shower of snowflakes as we walk beneath them. They sparkle against the bright sky as they float to the ground.

It is very cold and the snow is freshly fallen, so it is still bright white and glittering on the yards and sidewalks. Each snowflake is a tiny prism, shooting off multi-colored sparks in the bright sunlight. The long shadows of trees lay across the sidewalk, tinted a deep blue. Their delicate shadow branches tangle in the snowy lawns and are lost.

As we walk up the driveway, I see the shadow of the redbud tree we planted in the front yard sharply etched on the garage door. I stop for a moment to look at it, but Rufus tugs on the leash, eager to be inside. He's right, of course. It's cold out here. But I have tarried long enough to remember the beauty of this winter morning.