We woke to single-digit temps and about 5" of snow on Friday. For me, there's always been a certain magic to that scene - the snow draped along the top of each bare branch as if painted there, sparkling in the sunlight, the once-familiar surface of my yard transformed by the soft mounds and dips of its new dazzling white comforter. That snow-covered yard is completely familiar, yet totally new at the same time. As I stare out the window, most of me wants to stay where I am, hands curled around a steaming cup of coffee, snug and warm inside my home. But part of me, the adventurer/explorer/play-lover part, longs to don my winter gear and tromp through that snow, just to be the first set of footprints on that pristine surface.
That snowy yard is like a new year, stretching out before us open and inviting. The well-trod paths we used before lie buried beneath and out of sight, and so are useless for our immediate purpose. As we orient ourselves and decide on our destination, the adventure is all ours.
At the end of 2014, we'll be able to look over our shoulder and see the footprints we've made. My hope for all of us is that they bring us closer to each other and to our goals.
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