the rain fell but did not wash away all the snow, back to the river, as i had hoped it would. and yet as we walked, there was bare ground visible, and plenty of it. squishy and wet, the mud scented by the passing of countless feet, two legs, four legs. the dogs were delirious with it. so much so they broke out in a crazed dance, running joyful circles, turning, leaping, catching up snow in their mouths and eating it, pantingly, smilingly. the wind was out of the north but it was not cold and biting; it was fresh, damp, alive. it felt like a vital caress, a sounding back to life, a bath with strong hands gently smoothing away my fears. it felt like a wily angel sending mixed messages of hope and necessary darkness. i thought of jacob wrestling all night with that fierce angel at the river. the encounter left him sore and lame. perhaps what i have perceived as demons out to destroy me are only fierce and wily angels out to trick me back to full throated life? goading me to defiance and humility?
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