Over the River and Through the Woods

Whenever it snows, I look out my kitchen window and think of the song lyrics, “Over the river and through the woods, to Grandmother’s house we go.”  A postcard couldn’t better capture the image of snow in the woods, a graceful hill covered in trees and evergreens, and a small clearing just perfect for an old-fashioned sleigh to pass through.  One of these days, I’m going to get the sled out and climb up that hill and take one, quick ride down, imagining I’m young again.  The wind will blow in my face, my heart will race, and for an instant, I will be 8 years old and free.  Sadly, reality will hit as I’m cold and wet, wheezing and pulling the sled to the car, covered in bruises . . . not only to my ego.  But maybe, just maybe, it will be worth the risk.