Chris Gough of rural Norwalk composed the following piece, which was the winner in the Wilton Public Library’s winter writing contest.
“Come on, it’s time.” I say looking out the window with anticipation.
Swish goes the scarf around my neck.
There is a sharp sound of a zipper as it climbs towards my chin.
A soft rustle as the wool hat pulls over vulnerable ears.
Swag, swag goes the tail of my trusted friend and a quick snap, when her leash is secured.
The old farm house door creeks open and slams shut. We find our way out into the crisp winter night.
Crunching snow under our feet as we pace ourselves up the driveway. Click–clack, clickity-clack, my friends nails dance on the icy pavement. We travel up the road under the moon lit sky. Just enough light to see but enough darkness for a winter’s mystery. I watch the cold shadows dance over the frozen fields.
“Shhh, listen.” I say. “Do you hear that? It’s silence.”
Ever the Terrier, she stops and points her nose. The cold pushes all sounds away. Cars park for the day and everyone shelters in their warm homes, hiding from the brisk night. Listening to nothing we stand there, two quiet souls, as the frosty night slowly progresses.
My misty breath extends away and hovers in the air before dissipating into the darkness.
“Come on, let’s walk a bit more.”
Contrasting against vibrant stars, the night sky is ridiculously dark. The stars shine bright in the clean clear of a January night. Finding Orion’s Belt, I follow the path to Sirius. The Big Dipper is almost within reach.
Satellites speed past and an airplane blinks at me as it soars to a destination unknown.
A slight arctic breeze silently moves in. The cold is starting to settle around. The chill finds its way to me under the layer of a heavy winter coat. Neither my faithful friend nor I are bothered. We continue on this magical night of winter wonder.
My faithful friend sniffs the cold air. Her nose hints at a long-lost summer scent of a squirrel or maybe it’s the promise of a thaw in the coming months she detects. I remind myself it wasn’t that long ago that this very same time of day found me hiding in the shade from the heat of summer’s sun, wishing for a reprieve.
While others may have an aversion for the chill of winter’s night and hide away from the darkness, I seize its uninterrupted solitude. Not afraid of what winter can dole out, I embrace its cool demeanor with gratitude and respect.
“Come on, let’s go home.”
Click-clack, clickity-clack.
Crunch, crunch.
The old farm door creeks as it welcomes us both back into the soft glow of home.
Snap, and my friend is released. Swag, swag goes her tail as she finds her water bowl.
Rustle, my wool hat falls into the basket by the door.
Sharp teeth unclench as my zipper unhinges.
My scarf swishes as I unwrap it.
Looking out the window anxiously, I say, “There will be another winter’s walk tomorrow.”
