Thaw

Yesterday there were people walking on Spy Pond, distant people and nearer people. Dark as raisins against the white. One woman made a train with three kids holding on to each other, smallest to tallest, the tallest grasping her leg. She backed up, laughing and making choo-choo sounds. Others were just walking, somewhere between water and land. The sun was low but bright, making a sheen. Our Little Holland.

But today I didn't see anyone. It's a little more of water (on top), less of land. Temperature in the 40s, which is nice but also slightly upsetting. What opportunities does this present? I wasn't loving the cold, understand. But I was beginning to grasp its rules. Measure out time spent outside, gauge need for particular garments, rhythm of breathing against wind chill. And respect the persistence of ice and sculpted snow on the yards and surfaces. Now it's...Cut! Who ordered the thaw? That's not due till February. (February puts her head out her dressing room door. Was that my cue?) No, no, not yet, not yet. Half a month left. (Door closes.)

Tomorrow is Saturday. Another day of thaw. I'll have the new script. I'll be fine.