Tracks

It snowed the other day. Tuesday morning, as I sat in my usual state of waiting, it was snowing outside, prettily powdering the cars and the sidewalks.

I haven't been very appreciative of things lately. Well, not really. Sometimes when I walk past people on the subway, or by a painting at the Met, something might strike my fancy. But I have been so caught up in worrying and, unfortunately, feeling a bit like a failure, that I haven't taken too much pleasure in things.

I didn't notice the snow much either. Because the Bronx is fairly far from the city, and because I didn't have much bringing me down there, and mostly because I am still used to my California weather and secretly missing the perfect 60-degree, sandal weather I imagine my friends and family to be enjoying - because of all those, I don't venture outside much, other than to take Lee out in the afternoon to the park for 20 minutes or so. 20 minutes usually spent very cold, as a flex my fingers and bring him back in when my gloves are no longer sufficient.

Shortly after I spoke with Virginia on Tuesday, I took Lee out for his afternoon break. The park was covered in a light snow, but it wasn't coming down much anymore, and the weather was a little easier to handle. We wandered into the park, and I let him off of his leash for the first time during our walks. I ran around the park, following his dashes for squirrels, and we ended up towards the back, where the snow hadn't yet been marred, other than by the prints of a bird.

I had forgotten how beautiful freshly fallen snow is, how satisfying it is to make new tracks and look back at them in their solitude. Being here in the wintertime reminds me of childhood, and of all the happy memories that my family gave me.

It's funny, isn't it, that it takes a new place to remind me of old memories? Or maybe I've just reached an age where that has become more possible. In any case, I look forward to more such moments. I'm glad I'm in a state where I can have them.