Snow!

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Despite her lack of cold weather fur, Sarrah excitedly danced in our rare snow.  Many years, we do not get any snow near sea level.  Some winter’s we get a trace, others an inch or so as we did for Sarrah’s first, possibly instilling a lifelong zest for snow play.

On extreme occasion we get Buried with several inches, those heavy snowfalls were delightful, for Sarrah.  Her eyes got bigger; she made whimpers of excitement, when we finally got outside she would buck and bounce, jumping into the thick of it.  I used the longer leash, usually reserved for parks and beach walks, extending a fifteen-foot roving radius of restrained freedom for galloping through yards.  Like a kid off on a snow day I would bundle up and head out for the best, to turn her loose in the backyard to run, roll, dive and play.  She would gallop through the thick bright white fluff and occasionally stuff her nose into it, snorting with excitement.  It seemed that the huge fluffy flakes were her favorite kind, when the opportunity to get out into it came falling, we did.

Sarrah discovered regardless of the amount of this mysterious cold illuminating white stuff, it only stays here for a few days and then as quickly, it goes… away.

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The Man in the Maze

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Where do I go from here?

The Tohono O’odham people cherish the symbol of I’ITOI, the Man in the Maze.  I have seen this symbolic artwork many times on trips to southern Arizona.  It is of a man standing at the top of a circular tribal looking maze.  However, it wasn’t until my daughter Heather sent me a postcard from there did I possess one nor know the meaning (thanks to the brief explanation on the card).  Basically the symbol depicts a life; starting at the top following the path, acquiring knowledge, strength and understanding, nearer the middle one reflects back on wisdom gained as they move closer to the end in the center.  Initially she and in turn me were attracted to this one because the symbol is black on a white card, (I have long favored the illusion and absence of color).

I saved it and a couple of years later, while writing my story of Life with Sarrah more of the meaning found me.  Keeping it in the binder, I look at it often.

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Edges

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I like the Edges, always have

They draw me right up to them

Sometimes… I stumble, and almost go over

A few times I just sat there like a kid, kicking my feet over, swinging them in a rhythm; left, right – left, right – left, right just staring… Out There.

For some reason having an edge in sight is comforting, like Walking beside the Ocean

Safe is there, Gone over there, the Attraction being Right Here.

Frost

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Regardless of what the calendar tells us, our winter weather shows up (or doesn’t) when it feels like it, displaying another perk of living with our northern marine air.  During this time of year most things have a steel grey tone as the night takes a larger portion of the day and the sun often fails to shine through.  Even our evergreen plants seem darker, lacking in their color.  The once bright signs of Fall lose their color and clump into soggy piles of last years’ leftovers in the corners, becoming dreary coverings of decay and dormancy.

In the lower elevated, more populated areas of the Pacific Northwest we tend to be cold and often damp.  But on occasion, ready or not we have freezing temperatures and wake up to a bright fresh glazing of frost.  Sarrah discovered this crunch of frozen grass under paw to be a treat, loving to run with her nose right on the sparkling tips of the frosted blades.  Consumed with excitement by the mischievous spirit of Jack Frost tickling and tingling her snorting nose she would gasp for air while zigzagging the leash, dragging me around the block.  This annual random occurrence under the glowing streetlights was always good fun and warmed me with a smile.