After days of grey skies and intermittent rain, the predawn sky is once again filled with stars as Kit and I set off on our morning walk. The thermometer on the porch is fixed on twenty-two degrees. Frozen like the grass that crunches under our feet It is so dark and the air so cold that my eyes begin to water as I round the first turn on our meadow path. I want to look up at the sky and greet the stars, but keep my eyes fixed on the ground that I can barely see, trusting my trekking poles to guide me ahead.
Cathy Salter
Gradually, my eyes adjust to the darkness. Barn lights on neighboring farms mark their location one road to the east. The herd of cattle we passed yesterday as they munched hay distributed by their owner must be dozing still, lost in dreams of green summer pasture grass. Birds that shelter in dense cedar boughs have yet to venture out in search of grain at the feeders. The crunch of our footsteps is heard only by a lone rabbit eating the bright orange pulp that is all that remains of our Halloween pumpkins.
~ Read the rest in today’s Journal ~
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