I’m wearing a pair of muk luks over a pair of socks, a thick long sleeve shirt under my hoodie and a pair of flannel cozy pants, and that’s just my inside outfit. On a day like today, there will be no outside outfit. We have wind, a cloudy sky and a temperature of 24°.

When I was a kid, the weather never mattered. We all walked to school every day. My father left too early to drive us, and my mother didn’t drive. We never complained. We just accepted the walk as routine. The worst walk was in the rain. I’d arrive at school with wet clothes and sopping shoes. It took all day for my socks and shoes to dry. In the winter, when I was little, my mother bundled me for the walk. I wore layer upon layer from top to bottom, from a wool cap to knee socks. I was warm, but, at school, it took forever to get down to my uniform under all those layers. The next obstacle was finding a hook to hang my clothes on in the clock room. Once all that was accomplished, it was time to sit at my desk for school to start. One memory of school in winter makes me smile. When it was recess time, I’d just grab my coat and run outside, no hat, no mittens, just an unbuttoned coat. My mother would not have approved.

I have always believed in magic, not the rabbit in the top hat magic or witchcraft, but the magic that brings Tinkerbell alive when we clap. I can see the man in the moon, I left my tooth under the pillow. I wrote a letter to Santa, and I believed a rabbit brought eggs and chocolate. Fireflies are magical. When I was young, I’d sit on the hill and watch them light up the field below my house. Now, from the deck, I watch the firefly lights flicker in the backyard. A night with only the sounds of katydids, crickets, cicadas, and, if I’m lucky, an owl, is a magical night. There are no cars, no people and no barking dogs. I sit still and listen, caught in the magic.

I have never been this old before. I am at the, “May I help,” you age. People asked if they can help carry my grocery bags, usually they can. I always underestimate the weight of the bags and overestimate my strength. Things are slower now like walking and remembering, but I adjust. I still believe in magic.

This entry was posted on January 9, 2025 at 12:54 pm and is filed under Musings. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. Both comments and pings are currently closed.