Day 357

Snow collage.

A walk instead of a run today, through the gently falling snow, with Mad Molly Malone, the crazy black dog of very little brain.

We saw red berries against the white snow, deer-prints, trees all painted white on their left sides, and everywhere shades of grey with stark black and snowy white.  Dark-eyed juncos which are half-dark and half-light, flew up from their shelter of grasses bent over by the snow to form a shallow roof over the ground.  

Well, I saw all these things, Molly only sees in black and white anyway, but I doubt if she noticed any of this, fixated as she is on the yellow ball, which is either being chased, or being watched in anticipation of chasing it again.

Crazy shopping day with Tim, crowded stores, traffic jams, what fun!

We saw a little boy of about three and a baby boy of about eight months, both with the bluest eyes, being seated on the lap of Father Christmas/Santa for a photograph.  The mum and dad then went behind the photographer to get both boys to smile, going through all kinds of grimaces and funny actions in order to do this.  The little boy obliged with a beatific smile, while the baby was so busy looking at all the tinsel and bright decorations around Santa's chair that his attention was completely lost on the camera and the people trying to obtain it!  Eventually he glanced up and gave a vague Mona Lisa kind of smile, looking fairly content in the firm grip of the red-coated man with the big white beard.  I hope the photographer captured that moment.

Later I saw the same little family and went up to talk to the mum and the baby, whose name turned out to be Quinn, which is a lovely name, and his brother of the wide smile is Connor.  Strange these little human interactions we have, especially with babies, who we will probably never see again, but our brief inquiry into their little lives perhaps goes with them as a blessing, and our pleasant remarks about the lovely little family etc, find their way into the hearts of the mother and the father who will perhaps remember them with some pride and have a little stir of happiness at another time in life.

A manipulated photograph of Tim tonight, after supper.  He was my willing companion today, my brother-in-arms against those vast armies of Christmas shoppers, my fellow traveler in the immense Barnes & Noble bookstore, my driver, the pusher of the trolley/carriage in the supermarket, my collaborator, my joker, and, driving home in the dark at last, my exhausted compatriot.