The Glow of Home

After a long day without windows, when the only light that seeps down the hall and into my office is dull and gray, a day with a promise of snow and thick, threatening clouds looming down on us over the tall peaks to north and west, after a long drive home amid traffic whose lights through my rain dappled windshield are as stationary but as bright as those on a melting Christmas tree, after carrying my heavy legs up the thirty-seven steps to my door, there is quiet and peace and the soft final red glow of the day, three cats and a dog eager to brighten what little remains of this December evening. That is what makes it all worthwhile.