The outside world is tinted indigo, the color of thick clouds reflected from the snow that fell last night. There are deer tracks thrashed through the piles of plowed snow that rim the driveway, flattening the fresh inches in the walkway, circling the yew bushes which the deer ate to almost bareness last winter and appear to be ready to do again. So much action in the dark while we slept.
This is the first morning in many that I haven’t risen in darkness. Instead of being up to watch the first hints of day come in to the eastern horizon, I watch the darker clouds with their faint hue of purple move across the further, grayer sky. Will we see sun today?
Yesterday playing in the snow settled my squirrel brain as it always does. The calming effect of bi-lateral movement never fails me, being outdoors, the quiet glide of my skis, one after the other, through deep powder, my body in rhythm with ancient patterns, one foot in front of the other, one hand in front, then the next, each side of my body and brain having its turn in moving me to a new space, an awareness of change and stillness and being.