Color of outdoors blog

I sit quietly in my truck at night, the only soul around for miles.
I’m transfixed by the way the moon lights up the snow – it’s as if that was the only job the moon ever had, to make the snow sparkle. And she does it so well.
I’m awakened by the smell of the trees, their fresh green essence creeping into the chambers of my nose and sitting there with the memories of Christmas’ past.
Those nights we’d go driving. We’d go until we ran out of gas.
We’d scour every street, every scene repeating three or four times.
And we’d laugh.
Oh we’d laugh at the tiniest things.
Someone sneezing in oncoming traffic, someone slipping into a pirouette on ice and quickly composing themselves.
Yes, we saw that.
We’d buy cookies and hot chocolate and find the highest peak at the darkest spot in town and we’d marvel at the bountiful spread the night sky had placed for us.

I sit quietly in my truck at night, sometimes I’m the only one for miles.
I sip my hot chocolate and eat my cookies, and I rest my hand on the passenger seat.
While we no longer find love in each other, I will always find love in your memory.

M.