The cold has fingers that reach inside open jackets burning any skin that it can touch.
The cold holds the land down with a heaviness. It's icy hands keeping steam from rising in the air forcing the white puffs to move away on a sideways journey.
Sound is muted in it's weight, and in the early morning hours before the world wakes, the silence hovers around me like a cloak.
Snow squeaks in a muffled song under foot.
The puppies morning greeting is caught in the cold air and floats around me like leaves swept up in a gentle breeze.
I don't mind the cold.
Wrapping my head in mist from my breath.
Growing ice on my lashes and frost on my hood that frames my face.
The cold creates an awareness of being alive deep within me. Knowing that the pups and I will soon join in harmony out on the trails. A special bond between myself and the dogs that only few people will understand.
I love winter and the cold it brings, I just wish that this year there could have been some snow that came along for the ride as well.