A Small Thaw

This is the part of winter when I am my most crabby, my most tired and my most melancholy. I am crabby and tired because dealing with the winter in Cleveland takes a ton of energy. Especially if you are hauling around a super-tall, super-squirmy toddler most of the time. I suppose we could say that Cleveland is in a deep-freeze right now. It hurts to go outside. My fingers bleed when I try to open my side-door to my house with a key. I am afraid I am going to slip in the driveway or slide off the road in my car.

Now here is where I admit that I see a certain beauty at these extreme temperatures. Everything sparkles. Especially during these days of low, filtered sunlight. Subzero usually means clear, starry nights where the moon turns the world into a silent, glittery blue.

This morning as I pulled my car into our detached garage, I was annoyed at the loud crunching sound the snow made underneath the tires and how I practically slid into the garage at 35 mph without my foot on the gas. As I was walking out of the garage, I noticed that the wooden walls of the garage were blindingly sparkly, like the diamond mines in my imagination. I couldn't help but remove my glove and run my hand over the wall, in awe of the slick, yet warm surface. And somewhere deep inside of me, my crabby, tired and melancholy soul unclenched just a little.