watching the summer recede.

********

i wake, early. 

the morning is cold and frosty, 

+8F, or -13.3 for my celsius-speaking friends. 

i drink tea. i dress in layers. 

dress, thermal tee, polarfleece, leggins, carhartt coat, toque, gloves and mitts. 

i grab the walking stick on my way out the door. 

i chase the filtered sundog up coyote hill, 

keeping a constant eye on the changing skies, heavy grey clouds allowing just a glimpse

of that wispy rainbow colouring, occasionally looking down at my footing

on the frozen ground. 

what is this phenomenon i see beneath my boots? 

rocks have sunk away from the sand-and-gravel road, 

small-to-giant stones flush-set in the dirt. 

i walk further up the terraces of coyote hill, making my way out to the big spruce tree, 

stopping for a bit near the prayer flags, reciting my favourite poem, 

softly speaking a prayer or two….

i pluck a few frozen highbush cranberries from the stark stems of the bushes
and pop them into my mouth. 
tart, cold, refreshing. 

the dogs have left my side. i call them. 

they return from down the hill where they ran to meet mister pencilfox, 

his arrival home warranting their greeting. 

feeling all rosy-and-numb 'round my coyote girl cheeks, 

i pull up my collar and pause before descending coyote hill. 

at the base of the hill is our home. 

out there, so close yet so far away, is my mountain, crag. 

i pause, once more, for a prayer of gratitude, 

for all i have and all i am, 

still able to climb this hill and enjoy the scenery. 

i breathe in the cold air, occasionally glancing down at the scree

as i make my way back home. 

****

life is good. 

********