It’s snowing outside Chicago. Some of it sticking, but not staying long. It’s fleeting. Gray. Chilly. And temporary.
Temporary like autumn. Cold like the November air. And it is close. It’s right . . . over . . .there.
The heavy breath of winter can be felt on the back of the neck, and even Sam is reluctant to go out in it. But, we must.
Covid and now cold. It must not stop us from moving about, living a life, walking the dog. It’s been said that no weather is too much to walk in. It comes down to the appropriate clothes and the appropriate pace. And yes, a good mask. For Covid and for the cold.
November will be a different kind this time, Thanksgiving will have to be creative. But the love of family and friends will rise above it, and rise above the cold. Keeping us warm. Even when the biting air runs through us on our walks.