Sitting outside, on the railing. My 11:45 smoke break. Pasty, upstate-New York ankles shine just bright enough to blind the melting snow. A rabbit chews on a single patch of brave blades of grass; they have forced their way through cascades of white in a backyard tundra. I sat, trying to remember if I have ever had a "bad" February 15th. On the drive in this morning I thought that February 15th might be my favorite day of the year, for no reason in particular. A pessimist, by nature, I am trying to find negativity. Not today. The sun is so warm on my flushed face.
Aside from a brief lapse of sanity, I had an amazing night. Aside from waking up a little bit too early for my late-night self, I am having a fantastic day. I smiled on the drive down to Manlius. I said, "Isn't it beautiful out?" She said nothing, pouting in her usual way. I smiled. Joked. Laughed at myself for having the jitters from too much coffee, too fast. As I dropped her off, she smiled and said, "see you in an hour?" It seems so small, but if you knew the whole situation the smile would be significant to you, too.
Now, forcing memories, I remember a February 15th when I was 14 or 15. It was just like this, with less responsibility. I walked down the bike path by my parents house. I snuck into the woods and climbed over the same, old fence. Down to the creek. I sat for two hours by the melting ice. Disappearing snowmobile tracks. If I could, I would drive the 2 hours to that bike path right now. I'd sit there all day, feeling this way.
I cannot wait to walk the break wall. I cannot wait to jump into the frigid water. I am aching to scootch my lazy ass across the narrow cliff and fly a kite. Let the defrost begin.