the weight of a baby asleep against my chest in the bjorn, her body in a fuzzy suit, my hand on her head to keep the hood on.
Eden ahead of me on a balance bike, her dark pink running shoes pushing off the ground, helmet a bit askew. Exclamations:
LOOK how BEAUtiful the SKY is! -- darkening grey with fading pale pink clouds, skeletal trees lining the path on both sides.
I tell her, this is what winter looks like
She pulls over --
look at that BEAUtiful building! through the bare trees, an apartment building lit for the evening that, because it's December, looks to her like Christmas.
As the path darkens, speeding bright headlights of commuters shine behind us and pass. Each time she bumps off the path onto the gravel shoulder, laughing at herself as she walk-bumps along pulling the bike with her.
How toasty her hand feels in my cold one as we cross the street, though my coat is much warmer than hers. How she wants to keep riding, though the sidewalk has ended, and the street is now dark.
Look! the moon's following us!
her buoyant learning and orange leggings against the darkening night.
This is our first December here.