For the past several days, the coldest of the year, Duncan's needed a quick trip outside at 4 or 5:30 in the morning. It's a miserable thing, standing in sweats, a t-shirt, big boots and a heavy coat in single-digit temperatures waiting for your dog to pee, hoping you'll be able to go back to sleep, knowing the cold has already seeped so deeply into your bones that sleep will not return. And so I have lain awake all week–too optimistic to get up–staring at the clock, watching the minutes I should've been sleeping tick by, listening to Duncan, spread out across the bed, snore longly and loudly.
He was kind to me this morning and did not need an early morning dash to the yard. I, however, was not so kind. I woke up, as if on cue, at 5:30 and got out of bed. I like walking around the apartment in the dark, navigating my way across rooms, or retrieving a glass and filling it with water. I like to think I'm practicing in case I should ever go blind but really I just don't want to sting my eyes with light.
This morning, as I stood in the window watching Bowles come alive with traffic, I noticed the orange light reflected on the stick-figure trees growing in the park. Then I noticed the blue sky behind them. Not a dark blue, like night, but a fading blue, like old denim, like dawn. That orange on the trees seemed to melt away as the sky grew slowly–so slowly–brighter. And it was only 6:30.
It's the one thing that's getting me through these bleak, miserable temperatures, knowing that even as they drop, the world is conspiring against them, making room for earlier mornings and longer days.
And as Duncan climbed off the bed, ambling down the hall in that familiar, childlike way of his, the hair at his ears slightly mussed, stretching and smiling as he sidled up to me, I didn't mind so much, the taking-him-out-in-the-morning part.
He was kind to me this morning and did not need an early morning dash to the yard. I, however, was not so kind. I woke up, as if on cue, at 5:30 and got out of bed. I like walking around the apartment in the dark, navigating my way across rooms, or retrieving a glass and filling it with water. I like to think I'm practicing in case I should ever go blind but really I just don't want to sting my eyes with light.
This morning, as I stood in the window watching Bowles come alive with traffic, I noticed the orange light reflected on the stick-figure trees growing in the park. Then I noticed the blue sky behind them. Not a dark blue, like night, but a fading blue, like old denim, like dawn. That orange on the trees seemed to melt away as the sky grew slowly–so slowly–brighter. And it was only 6:30.It's the one thing that's getting me through these bleak, miserable temperatures, knowing that even as they drop, the world is conspiring against them, making room for earlier mornings and longer days.
And as Duncan climbed off the bed, ambling down the hall in that familiar, childlike way of his, the hair at his ears slightly mussed, stretching and smiling as he sidled up to me, I didn't mind so much, the taking-him-out-in-the-morning part.
3 comments:
Here in Minnesota, the weather is currently about minus 10... which discourages me from going out to try to curb Darwin's new infatuation with running the fence and barking. But today, as we were driving to go to lunch, and crossed the infant Mississippi, with frozen ice chunks, frosty trees, and the mist rolling off the river, I have to admit that winter IS beautiful... best seen, though, from a warm house, apartment or vehicle! Glad to meet you and Duncan!
Lori
http://www.fermentedfur.com
Luckily it's warmed up quite a bit this morning. I've spent much of the morning cleaning the apartment with the windows open and Duncan sitting in front of them pining for a nice long walk in the park, which we'll get to after everything is cleaned up. It's the price he has to pay for having SO MUCH HAIR!
It's good to meet you, too, Lori. I was looking at your blog this morning and liked your most recent post.
Windows open! Wow! That's probably not happening here till April! (Current temperature, minus 13!) Luckily, we have a very large fenced yard. I can't wait till May, when we can open the pool... it will be Darwin's first summer with us, and I have a hunch he'll not only love the pool, but be my first "diving board dog" since we had Sassafras years ago!
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