I woke as usual, running through a silent inventory of body and sky.
Is it clear as it almost always is? Are the limbs still working ? Am I ready for this day?
The sky seemed gray too late in the morning, after pink should have become blue. I squinted harder, seeing snow.
It’s been so warm, my first thought was excited: Snow in June!
No, as I wiggled a toe, rotated an ankle, lifted my hips, stretched my back, raised my head — all parts apparently in working order — I realized it was February as February should be.
It’s hard to grasp the scope of climate change. It’s hard to foresee the map of cancer cells.
But I went to the kitchen to boil water for coffee. Looking out the window for my old buddy Cooper, I knew it was another lucky day.