Friday, January 28, 2011


Thirty-six hours of house time is enough. I enlist the boy and the dog to accompany me for a walk in the park. With various amounts of bundling we make it through the front door to find... It's snowing? Again? No one minds and we continue. The boy running full-out on the trail left by a toboggan, the dog skittering on top of the snow or hunting for foot prints to follow, and me looking for the secure footing of untouched snow. I'd be mortified if I fell or twisted my ankle.

The snow is heavily plastered on the sides of all the trees. Wednesday night was quite a pounding for Baltimore. As we snake down to the path through the park I see imprints from ski poles and the narrow skid marks of cross-country skis. I'm impressed by these people's energy. Over-weight, and recovering from a nasty head cold, I find myself out of breath as I break through the heavy snow, step after step.

Throughly enjoying himself, the boy uses my knee as a boost to get up to the top of the pump house and immediately lays down in the deep untouched snow on its roof. I'm guessing that the firm pressure of laying in this heavy snow fills a "sensory need". Was it my own "sensory need" that drove me to lead the three of us on this walk?

Thirty minutes later we're back in the house for just a second. Then it's a trip to the back yard as he continues playing and I type.


  1. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

  2. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.


I love comments. Ads, on the other hand, will be deleted.