January 3rd, 2016 by Jan

I’m looking out the window off the front deck, and the sky is a bright orange, with mists of pink in the clouds.

I know if I walked outside, and down the street, not even 50 metres, I would be blown away with the beauty of the sunrise.

But, as I look out, I see that it’s way too soon to go out for a walk.

Frost is everywhere! The street is slick and covered in black ice. I don’t want every step I take to be one of caution. I don’t like holding the fear of falling. Especially, since in an hour or two, everything will be clear, melted and dry. I’ll wait until walking is easy.

It wasn’t always this way.

One of the best memories I hold is from a time, 38 years ago, when I lived in Oklahoma.

Winter was in full swing and the roads were a slickery mess. Yet, the fear of falling was nowhere in my mind. Instead the day was spent slipping and sliding down a frosty street, wearing down booties.  The day was cold, yet, full of laughter and joy!

My best girl friend and I were getting to know each other.

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