Walking through the cold air from the library; it is light. It has a certain smell. The cold. It is familiar. It is an old friend. I was raised within the cold, nestled onto its very bosom, under the crook of its arm and beneath its loving gaze. I know it, and it knows me. I move through it with such ease and splendor; I feel it wrap itself around my bare skin. It grazes my face and weaves through my hair, crawling up the nape of my neck and the edges of my ears. I feel good, I feel at peace. The cold is where I found home. The cold is where I grew. I was raised knowing the smell of the seasons, and when a storm was rolling in. But I especially knew when Winter approached. The air….it smells like, stillness. The air is clean, light, fresh. An inhale burns my throat, but only for a short moment, and the searing of its chill reaches its thin fingers to the floors of my lungs, and it grips the very life moving inside me. It seems to grapple my thoughts, and pull me into a grand state of consciousness. Of awareness. I am aware of my body. I am aware of the ground I walk on, and the curve of my fingers. I am aware of the earth beneath me, and the sounds around me.
In a single breath.
I think Spring will be here soon though. The city has been bathed in light lately, it would be such a shame to see its beauty disappear beneath the fog.
The sun was out today. It got up to 59 Degrees. I sat outside and did homework, and actually got a little color in the pasty white complexion that Seattle has given me. I laid out in the sun with Koko. It was remarkable.
I am considering splitting a plane ticket with my parents to come home for some random weekend, just so I can enjoy the CO sunlight that I so long for, as well as go skiing, and see my dogs…maybe chill with my parents too, you know, they’d probably appreciate that.
I want purpose to my day again; Seattle meant purpose. Seattle meant productivity. But here, I just feel like everything is crawling by so slowly. Maybe I’ve forgotten how to enjoy myself, and luxuriate in the nothingness. I am bored, and wish that I wasn’t. My stop motion film is not as good as I had hoped. My other film is not nearly close to being done. I have scholarship essays to write, an RA application to finish, and decorating to do.
We are putting our dog down tomorrow.
He is old, and had a very long, and full life. He saw my brother come home as an infant. He saw my sister go through her crazy, adolescent years. He saw our family grow up.
I am sad for him to go, but I think that his life has been more vibrant and unconventional than that of any dog’s.
Thank you Cody, for being the best dog our dysfunctional family could ask for.