Friday, February 11, 2011
Story-A-Day #92: White Lie
I woke up with a yawn and a stretch then slowly rolled out of bed. The weekend had arrived, and none-too-soon. I wandered down the hallway towards the kitchen, sliding my feet along the smooth hardwood floors. Today would be a solid day. It was winter, true, but I was done with hibernating. Spring was not far off and I knew that once it arrived, I would regret the fact that I hadn’t enjoyed a little more of what winter had to offer.
I put on a pot of coffee, fried some eggs and bacon, toasted a couple pieces of bread, poured a glass of orange juice, and slid into my seat at the dining room table. My first bite was halfway to my mouth before I noticed the scene out the patio door in front of me. It was pristine.
I abandoned my breakfast for a moment and stared out at the wonderland beyond the frosty glass door. Ten inches of fresh powdery snow had fallen overnight, adding to the impressive amounts that we already had.
Yes, today was going to be a good day.
I finished up my breakfast, showered and dressed, then went into the storage room and dug out my snowshoes. There were miles of trails behind my house and I was going to explore them all.
Someone had beat me to the trails, which was good because they had blazed a bit of a trail for me to follow. The sky was a deep, regal blue and the sun shone down brightly. It wasn’t long before I had undone my coat to let a little cool air in.
I wasn’t the only one who was enjoying the trails either. Big fluffy bunnies bounded through the snow and chickadees flittered through the snow heavy branches, dropping big clumps of snow to the ground. It was another world in that forest, an immaculate realm of clean, white pureness. The air was crisp and fresh. The trees were silent. It was probably the extra snow, but the usually ubiquitous sound of distant traffic had been erased from the world as well.
I eventually caught up to the trailblazer, and greeted her with a warm smile. She had flopped down into the snow and was sipping on a thermos.
“Hot chocolate?” she asked, extending the thermos up towards me.
“I’d love a bit,” I replied, and plopped down next to her.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” she said as I handed the thermos back.
“More so as the day goes on,” I replied. “I honestly can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing.”
It was a lie, but an innocent white one. I hoped the day would never end.