In the dusk, children screamed as they sledded down a hill — so screechingly at first I worried they were injured. When I stepped around the garage, though, two children in raggedy snowsuits were laughing at the foot of a very short hill. The kids ran up, holding orange sleds.
I know I posted this last fall — but, again, here’s one of my favorite poems.
Although there is the road,
The child walks
In the snow.
— Murakami Kijo
And here’s my big kid, taking a holiday photo and begging me to please, try to smile!
Stony Soil Vermont 
I love the poem! The best thing in the world when you are kid is getting to be the first to walk through the snow on the lawn/field. And I mean kids of all ages here…
So true. Saving grace of Vermont winter, isn’t it? And — I’m loving reading your blog!
Thank you so much Brett Ann! I look forward to your postings as well! You capture the mood here so well; every word poetry.
Sweet poem and image of screeching kids on sleds. Time to figure out where the sleds got stowed last spring. Moving twice in five years is hard on the 52 year old brain! I remember exactly where they would be two houses ago…
Oh my goodness, I’m so glad that gauze of memory may not be my solo affliction. Once upon a time I didn’t even need a grocery list, and now I need an everyday list!
Look at that with a real camera! Love to see the photo!