And I remember the winter wasn’t so bad. Mostly it was beautiful. The dark pavement turned white and the bleak trees turned lovely, peaceful and heavy with fresh flakes. I remember the dogs on my street would tip toe through the powder and past my front door. Their steps would hardly make a sound and then they’d have to head home because their fur coats were always less than they needed. I remember holding cups filled with anything I could find to keep me warm and awake. And I remember slipping into my bed next to the window, with inches left open to the outside. I liked to let in a little of the frozen air and the soft sirens and the screeching breaks. The combination formed an unexpected gentleness that could hum me to sleep every time.
