Yesterday was my 62nd birthday. The forecast was for a dusting of snow overnight, but when the sun came up there were two or three inches on the ground and it was still snowing heavily, on the way to eight inches when it finally stopped around sundown. I was delusional enough to get in the car with my GSD Prophet, but when I couldn't go more that three feet, I changed plans. It took twenty minutes to get the car back up in the driveway.
So we set out on foot. The woods we go to are only three-quarters of a mile away anyway. We took the long route, though, hoping to run into some of Prophet's friends in Henry Hudson Park. No luck. We headed down toward the river and then I realized that my birthday gift was right there in front of me. It's always just out there. All you have to do is look up. Last year it was a bald eagle sitting in a tree: not something I see everyday in the Bronx! This year it was the untracked snow on the ground, the snow in the branches, and the ecstatic GSD running with abandon through the stuff.
Blessings like this seem to always be there, just within reach. I try to remember to find them and to be grateful. This photo is from today. The sun is out, there are tracks from other people and other dogs. And I was frozen: not with cold, but with appreciation.
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