Photo from carlwwycoff
Lucy (the dog) and I were out on a late walk last evening, the kids were tucked in and Eric was in his pajama's doing the dishes. I bundled up, grabbed the leash and ran out with Lucy.
It was so quiet. My breathing and the crunching of the snow beneath our feet were the loudest noises.
I always walk in the alleys of our town. When I was in college, we lived in a little apartment in the middle of town. I walked back and forth to the college, between classes. And almost always through the alleys. Our alley's are not smelly, trashfilled, forgotten concrete places. But it is an extension of the street. If you haven't been to town-- there are almost no fences. Maybe a picket fence here or there to keep in a dog or a crop of children but the 6 foot tall fences we grew up with in California, are few and far between.
So, in these well kept alleys you really get a window into a family's life. And you could imagine the town before paved roads. Most of the houses are older, restored Victorian's and or practical old farm houses. And walking along the gravel alleys, you can totally envision yourself in a different era.
Walking in the dark, with Lucy on the march. We stepped into stride, breathed the cold air in and listened to nothing.