In the Flurries

Out on the lake we skate with shovels, pushing the fluffy snow off to the side as we begin to clear the rink that will ultimately disappear in a few hours if the weather keeps up like this. My hat and hood are covered in the white stuff and my cheeks are red from the cold, but everywhere else I’m warm, almost sweating, from shoveling. 

The nearby islands are barely visible thanks to the steady stream of snow falling from the sky. In the distance an ice-fishing shack is puffing smoke. Daisy watches us intently as we work. Twenty minutes later we have cleared a circular track and exposed the dark ice below.

Emancipator blasts from the speakers as we skate around the rink. Daisy trots behind us, not seeming to care that we are going in circles. The snow shows no sign of letting up, but we carry on for another hour. It’s so peaceful.

At the top of the hill, two huskies and a lab emerge from the woods and bound down to play with Daisy. We watch as our little California pup uses everything she’s got to run through the deep snow to keep up with her long-legged playmates.

Finally when our legs and feet can’t take anymore, we call it quits. At home we bust out a bottle of red wine and a 1000-piece puzzle that takes up our entire kitchen table. The snow is still falling outside.

Tomorrow we’ll snowshoe, but for tonight, this right here is all we need.