Mulling things on my morning ramble
with Storm, the family's mixed Lab.
The meathead jumped on a chair next to me, pointed his snout inches from my face, then fixed a dog-must-do stare on me.
Apparently, he could smell the snow. And his inner Labness came out.
Life is such an immediate thing for dogs, especially Labs.
Snow? Time to go play.
Probably there is a lesson in there for me to seize the day.
It hadn't started snowing when I awoke, but by 5:30 the fine snow had whitened the lawns, drives and roads enough to lift the darkness.
The snow was so fine it looked like a mist falling in the yellow cones of the street lights.
As we neared the edge of town, we could hear a gaggle of geese raising a ruckus.
Dozens, maybe even hundreds of geese, have been using Cote Lake, where they have been swimming open a patch of water for more than a week.
Canada geese started pouring into the area last week, virtually with the first big snow last Thursday.
Usually when that racket begins, they are ready to lift off. But they didn't. Maybe they simply find joy in the winter weather and were yacking with each other.
Thinking about their possible happiness, I realized I had a sense of happiness myself.
Something that rarely happens for me, especially in winter when SAD is more likely to make it difficult to even do the routines of life.
Some is the joy of working a big story like Nick Tassoni busting Illinois' longest-standing gamefish record with his 14.75-pound walleye. That's the kind of story that I can chew on from lots of sides.
Some is finally learning after more than 15 years how to live with a sense of grace with my wife.
Some is our second boy celebrating his 15th birthday this week, the same boy who we didn't think would make it through the first week of his life. Or if he did, he would be damaged goods. Instead he is a small-sized, but growing, version of other 15-year-olds.
Some is, while I hate winter as an overall concept, I do enjoy snow. And finally, we have snow this winter. If it's going to be winter, I at least want snow.
Storm and I put the first and only tracks in the snow coating. I could hear a snow plow on the state road and wondered how he could plow with maybe a 1/4 inch of snow down.
The north pit of the town pond still had two open water spots. The south pond is froze enough to walk carefully on.
It's been a weird year for ice and snow.
The fine snow matted my brown fleece with a white frosting. Back indoors, my knit cap crunched when I pulled it off. I threw them into the dryer.
Back to artificial dryness and warmth.