Walking in the Snow

I've lived all over the United States. And there is no place like Minnesota.

I know that I have roots here and my mind might make things better than they really are from time to time, as unlikely as that ever feels these days, but sometimes I look out the window or even go for a walk to the store and think: it's beautiful here.

If you've ever had the luck in your life to just stop and sit and watch the snow fall outside the window, you might understand. It's simplicity and all kinds of poetic if you really want to push yourself.

Come winter and it's like a different world outside. You get use to it, but when you've been gone as long as I've been, living a long time in the southern states, sometimes you forget. I can look out the window to the town I can see even when my eyes are closed and not recognize things.

The trees that loose their leaves. The pines covered in snow like something out of a Christmas card. The sound of a car driving by in slightly melted snow, that slosh that doesn't sound like anything else in the world.

And for a moment you can forget everything.

You can pretend whatever you want.

You can be happy.

I look out the window and I wonder if Sara is cold. And I hate myself for being warm.

I hate myself for my own fear and my own inability to do more. As if wandering through the woods yelling her name would resolve anything.

But it would be something.

I talked to the reporter again, you'll hear it soon. He had something to tell me, something important that I'm trying to follow up on right now.

It's something.

It's getting late/early and I really need to get to bed.

Here is my happy thing for today, Julie.

*side note: that choir conductor is now on my list of favorite people*

Yes, I like Toto. They were mom's favorite.