Just got back from my evening walk around the neighborhood. If you were considering for even a moment being impressed by how active I keep myself, don’t be. I’ve been so inactive this winter that I could probably be reclassified from animal to vegetable, probably even mineral. In fact, as soon as I got home this evening I made a beeline for the recliner and stayed there for the better part of an hour while I caught up on news stories that had piled up in my e-reader, and didn’t feel at all guilty about it until the clock bonged seven and I realized it was still light outside. Then, and only then, I felt the teensiest smidge of guilt, but it doesn’t take much to dig into my hide. Right away I put on jacket, scarf and gloves and was out the door.

Three months ago, seven o’clock would have been the dead of night around here. The sky would have been inky black or, if it was overcast, everything would have been lit up by that weird beige glow from the streetlights reflecting off the clouds back down to the ground. Sometimes the beige would be so bright when I’d get up in the middle of the night to pee that I’d have to stop in my tracks to blink at it for a minute, confused about what kind of weirdness I was dreaming about this time. But mostly it was just dreary dark. Dark in the evening when I got home after work, dark in the morning until after I left the house for work again. Who wants to go for a walk in that? Not me.

It would also have been twenty degrees below zero three months ago. So, two very good reasons to stay inside curled up on the sofa with a book, or watching a movie, or something that didn’t require much in the way of activity other than wrapping myself tightly in a thick quilt.

But tonight it was still light enough to believe once again in days when the sun is up before I am. Kids were out playing. Robins – robins, I tell you – were hopping about with their heads cocked to one side, listening for whatever sound the worms make deep beneath the ground that gives them away right before they become bird food. Soon, and I know this seems hard to believe right now, I will be able to walk around the block or across town in a t-shirt and shorts with nothing on my feet but flip-flops and there won’t be the slightest danger that I will lose all my toes to frostbite. It’s happened before; it could happen again.