Home is Looking Up

Captured on my Sunday morning run.

I miss my family most in the winter. The snow had a beauty to it. Even though we lacked sunlight, the powdered ground bounced enough light into my eyes to have me squinting through my lashes as I road my bike hurriedly to my cousin’s house.

It was a black Huffy with a single gear. The writing was white with a red outline, and white handlebars if memory serves me. My tires weren’t studded but had enough tread and width on them to plow my way through the cream like street.

I live in California now, but I still get that feeling when I look out at the silent waves hovering above me. In my house, I’m alone in my admiration for the winter. But it’s dry canopy always reminds me of those cold rides to see my best friends in that life and this one.