Today I got to bask in the February sun.
As I crunched through the frozen footpath leading into the woods, I noticed the sun was rolling in and out of the clouds, like a boat sailing across the sky.
I headed for the hill, the spot where the snow always melts first due to the landscape’s 45-degree angle to the sun. There, I sat like a child in the ocean surf, waiting for the waves. At regular intervals, sunlight moved across the land until it reached my toes. The warmth washed across my body, paused for a moment, and then gently faded back into shadow.
I smiled each time, and thought about the hot summer. Then, it will be the shadows that I anticipate with glee.
After 20 minutes, no longer able to tolerate my damp behind, I got up and walked back up the hill. When I got to the top, where the ground leveled off, I immediately felt the chill of the snow-cooled air. The farther down the path I got, as I ambled closer toward home, the snow became more solid and the air temperature fell. I felt like a traveler on her journey back from a fun beach vacation: glad to have been; not ready to go home.