On Christmas morning

In the pre-dawn glow we walk, the dog and I.  Our muffled footsteps cut a trail through a quiet blanket of new snow. Before the day begins to stir sleepy households the solitude is comforting, an interlude of peace on this Christmas morning.  For this time I can imagine that all is right with the world.

Down the road we go, through pristine snow, our path marking yesterday and each footstep taking us into tomorrow.  At the old cottonwood, where snow frosted branches form a pattern of lace against the snow gray sky, the hawk watches from his treetop perch.  As we disturb his vigil, he takes flight, gliding on silent wing. 

Across the field, a pair of crows caw a noisy greeting and circle twice announcing their presence.  A small herd of whitetail deer dance a rhythmic ballet of flashing tails and delicate footsteps in their retreat.  And we press on.

We have a privilege, the dog and I, to choose this new path in an unmarred future.  May the New Year bring fresh blessings for all.