For the month of March, I'll be writing with the Slice of Life community. Disclaimer: I'll be writing every day so the writing will be a bit unpolished most days. Thanks to Two Writing Teachers for bringing this community together and for inspiring me to try to find the stories that surround me each day.
The flurries fall from the sky in big beautiful flakes. It's March, but I still love the beauty of a snow. There's something about the bright white that covers the earth I can't help but appreciate.
I snap a picture and send a text to my husband, "You have to admit it is pretty."
His reply quickly appears on my screen, "So is a Harley tearing down a twisting, isolated country road on a 70 degree, sunny day."
Jeff isn't a fan of the cold or the snow. His dream is to move someplace warm where he can ride his motorcycle all year long. I, on the other hand, enjoy watching the change of seasons. After years of observation, I've learned the signs that signal the beginning and end of each. I don't mind the cold, especially if there is snow. There's the wonderful white. There's the cardinal who stays for the winter, his red even more brilliant in contrast. There's the white snow weighing heavy on the branches of pine trees, and the thin contrast between ground and sky. I love it all.
My husband, on the other hand, would happily stay locked in the house with his book until the madness ends. If he could, he'd spend the months from November to March in a far away land of sunshine; a place where the days are longer, the evenings filled with warmth, and the sky a constant host to bright sunlight.
Having been married for over thirty years, we'll eventually figure this out. We have a lot of experience finding our middle. He's the chill parent; I'm the enforcer. He likes the house freezing in the summer; I like it comfortably warm. He likes the house burning up in the winter; I don't mind finding a jacket. I like to be on the go; he likes to sit in his chair with his book. I like to snack all day; he likes one big meal. I fall asleep just after the sun sets; he comes to life as soon as darkness surrounds us. I'm sure this won't be any different. I'm sure in the years to come we'll find that sweet spot in the middle.
Luckily we have some time before a decision needs to be made. There are a lot of possibilities ahead. I'll probably never get him to fall in love with winter. He's not likely to get me to move too far from where I am now. Maybe, just maybe, we'll find the middle. In the meantime, I'll enjoy the snow in March. He'll count down the days until his motorcycle can make it out of the garage.
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