Today was my real Valentine’s Day.
We went for a long walk in an old park we hadn’t been to in a long time, and never in winter. I’d been there so many times – it used to be part of my regular running route – that it felt familiar, even though it was transformed by the snow.
A pair of pileated woodpeckers, laughing to each other, red heads swooping and knocking about the empty trees, sweeping out the cobwebs before spring (too fast and too far for my camera).
Cedars in the old cemetery, quiet but cheerful under a blanket of white. And slippery, too.
Down over the edge, plunging fast-faster-faster. No steering spun backwards, stum-bumbling backwards into a crash upside down in a drift of white snow. Laughing. Again and again, arms flailing, legs flying, on my back looking up into a sky of pure blue.
I’m literally head over heels in love.
The moon hung on, hiding yellow in the trees as the sun came up.