Friday, March 4, 2016
Lessons in Observation - Midnight Blue Sky
The dog stood by the door, his signal that he needed to go outside. Not getting a fast enough response he turned his head and fixed his melt-your-heart brown eyes on me. I didn't understand his need to go outside, he had just been out there ten minutes earlier and done all his morning business. Maybe going outside after eating his breakfast was just too much a part of his normal routine, even if he didn't have to do anything.
The eyes won, I grabbed my long, down coat from the closet, pulled on my paisley rain boots, snapped on his leash, and at the last second grabbed my mittens from the counter. I opened the door from the garage and we were off.
He made a beeline down the driveway to the bike path, he thought we were going for a walk. This was not my thought at five o'clock in the morning. Once on the bike path he stopped, giving me a moment to catch up. That's when I noticed it - the enchanted winter wonderland that had been created over night. The stillness. A thick blanket of snow covered the ground absorbing all sound. Above me was the deepest, darkest midnight blue sky, filled with tiny golden lights. Also floating in the sky were jagged edged islands of sooty gray clouds. A weak moon shown through the breaks in the clouds, illuminating the path before us.
Maybe I would indulge the old guy for a quarter mile or so, it was too magical out here to go back to the warm house so soon. We set off down the unplowed bike path. When we reached the subdivision corner, it was time to turn around, my head was cold from the lack of a hat. The dog was disappointed, I have a feeling he had more things he wanted to show me.
Back in the warm house, I gave him one of his big biscuits, to thank him for the breathtaking adventure. Maybe tomorrow I won't forget my hat, and we can travel a little farther.