It was 4F degrees when the dog and I went out for a walk this morning at 8a, still an hour before the sunrise. Before stepping out the door, I pulled on layers of warmth – these Alaska years have taught us many variations according to conditions, and it always cracks us up that as we stand in the entryway putting stuff on and on and on, the dog stands watching. waiting. Ever ready in her super versatile coat that adapts with the seasons, always beautiful.
It was dark and quiet out in the neighborhood on this Sunday morning. As we walked, I listened to the snow sounding scritch scritch scritch beneath my feet. I have learned that this is what cold sounds like. More precisely, this is the sound of walking in snow <14F degrees. And it is a sound that always makes me think about things we know. Things we know because of experience. Things we know because we have spent time in place.
Turn. Turn. Turn.
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