The sun is bright and full and beautiful today. It snowed 8 inches last night in Robbinsdale, a pure white snow that reflects the brightness in every direction, bringing it from all angles so that you can’t help but squint.
I went to bed sick and I woke up sick, possibly bronchitis, which I’ve had once before, and this feels like that. Something buried deep in my lungs that makes me wheeze. Coughing and congested. And still, I don’t feel anything but good. I’m full with a certain easiness today, as though I’ve hit a reset button and am starting something new, possibilities endless. I slept late, laid on the couch and read a book, didn’t worry about unloading the camper or unpacking. Later I walked to the corner store to get gummi bears, which now taste only sweet, flavors indistinguishable. I didn’t bother to lock my door.
On the walk, birds everywhere were chatting, getting to know each other again. For us humans, this snow is one you can ignore, as half the neighborhood did, some sidewalks shoveled, most not. It’s as though it’s a joke, nature’s way of saying, “just kidding.” We all know it’s really spring. The birds and the sun have said so, and that’s that. Goodbye winter. Hello spring.
When I woke up this morning I could feel all my ribs from coughing, all 12 of them, I thought. Is that right? I looked it up. I can’t believe we have 24 ribs. How do they fit? Anyway, I couldn’t feel that many, so considered it a blessing that my cough might have been worse.
I’m not sure what I’m going to do with this blog. A reflection post, soon to come, perhaps. Maybe one that looks to the future, toward some other trip conceived to dodge another third of a future winter. But maybe I’ll keep writing, since I’ve started something. There’s no reason not to keep writing.
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