New Snow

Over the weekend, my family spent the night in Otter Lake, Michigan (it’s near the thumb). My sister, her husband, and their two boys live there and we like visiting to get away every once in awhile.

Sunday morning, we all bundled up and went to my brother-in-law’s grandparent’s house. They have land with trails that cut through hundreds of pine trees. We tied a sled to the back of a side-by-side atv. Two of my kids rode in the sled. The more cautious one sat with me in the back. My brother-in-law drove the vehicle. He took it slow. The sled fell into the groove made my the tires. The giggles from all three kids were music among the tall trees.

Later on, I asked my nephew to drive me around on the atv. He’s more man than boy now. It makes me realize how fast life goes. And it makes me proud of how he’s growing. He’s taller than I am now. It doesn’t feel so long ago that he took a nap nestled in the crook of my arm. But, now that I think of it, that was 13 years ago. It’s a good thing he doesn’t read this blog. I’m sure he’d be mortified.

But now, this boy-man was driving me across new snow. The only mark on some of the white stuff were the tracks of rabbits or deer. The vehicle pushed through the snow, cutting through, showing where we had been. The cold wind stung my face. He was driving pretty fast. Well, for this cautious girl, at least.

He drove me by a field. In the summer corn grows there. In the winter, it is empty and flat. Acres upon acres of untouched snow. New snow.

We could have rode around all day in that side-by-side and never sliced through all the new snow with our tires or feet.

And, in that, lies possibility.

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