atlas is 13! as of march 15th.

can you believe it? (i can scarcely believe it myself.)

his special day included a double hamburger, a long nap with me, a hike by the lake, and lots (& lots) of kisses.

i’ve written a lot about atlas over the years – that’s why so many people love him – but lately, when it comes to my beloved pup, my heart grows & grows & grows until it fills my throat. there are no words left, only feelings.

atlas is a piece of my heart walking around outside of my body, and i so so so adore him.

the sun kisses everything it touches as it slowly pulls the covers of the horizon up over its head.

sometimes, when the wind blows just right, a crack in the world opens.

if you’re paying close attention in that moment, you might catch a glimpse of fairyland.

it’s one of the snowshoe trails at swedetown, a cross-country ski area about five minutes from my house. isn’t it lovely!

“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says ‘Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.’”

~ Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass

i am taking the pup on an early morning potty run before my barista shift.

the snow is falling softly and the snowflakes sparkle as they cross the boundary between sky & streetlight.

i open my mouth and catch a snowflake on my tongue.

hello, dear snowflakes.
i’ll call you snow that melts on your tongue.

i lean my head back and feel the snowflakes caress my face.

no.
i’ll call you snow that feels like soft angel kisses.

the world is silent in this early morning hour and my heart is full of gladness.

hello snowflakes that sparkle in the light.
hello darkness that covers the world like a blanket.
hello winter that invigorates me.

hello beloved furry pup that comes out into the dark with me.
hello warm coat that grazes my knees.
hello skinny jeans that hug my legs.
hello boots that are tall & furry.

hello quiet neighborhood where i can let my pup walk off-leash.
hello neighbors who are sleeping.

hello sky that shifts from silver to grey to dark slate to black.
hello trees that border the road.
hello tire tracks that look like fairy paths in the snow.

with that, we reach the end of the road.

i turn toward home and let the swoosh-paw swoosh-paw of my aging pup’s tracks lead me into my morning.

once a snowflake fell
on my brow and i loved it so much and i kissed
it and it was happy and called its cousins
and brothers and a web
of snow engulfed me then
i reached to love them all
and i squeezed them and they became
a spring rain and i stood perfectly
still and was a flower

~ nikki giovanni, winter poem

(i saw this poem on facebook and fell in love. isn’t it delightful! just like winter snowflakes.)

i curl up at the foot of the bed,
a stack of pillows behind me,
journal & pen in my hand.

you are lying
lengthwise
on the bed,
(on your bed, you’d say)
your head near me.

you wriggle
backward-forward
backward-forward
backward-forward
until
your head
touches
my thigh.

you push your head against me,
burrowing in.

your head
finally
at rest,
you let out a long groan-sigh.

it says, this is nice.
it says, i am content.
it says, stay.

the sound
enters
my ears,
slips down
my spine,
and lands
in my heart.

if i could,
i would stay
here
forever.

i grew up in the land of winter. in many ways, it is during winter that i feel most alive.

there are moments when i am on my snowshoes or my cross-country skis and the world around me is nothing but blue & grey & white & green – that i think winter just might be my new favorite season.

i got crazy beams
& criss-cross seams
& tire tracks on my soul.

i got rattled gears
& rattlesnake ears
& thunderstorms in the snow.

i got panthers with their claws unfurled
& hear the lilies speak through tears
& even after all these years
a still noon tells me no.