The Lamp-post

I volunteered to shovel snow the other night. Yes, volunteered. The weather was warm; the snow was light. I paused to catch my breath at the end of the driveway and looked back at the house. All was quiet. No one was crying or fighting or calling for Mommy. No neighbors were pushing their gas-guzzling snow blowers, no dogs were barking, no snow plows were driving by. It was just me and the lamp-post. The lamp-post looked just as it must have to Lucy in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe as she walked through the trees, her shoes crunching the snow, as she was about to embark on a great adventure.

As I finished the driveway, my neighbor brought out his snow blower and the peace of the evening was gone. He was done in a fourth of the time it took me to shovel. When I went back into the house, both girls were sound asleep. Lily had not been asleep when I was outside, and Ed had discovered her looking out the window, watching me. Even though I had gone outside to escape for a while, it was comforting to know that I still had my sweet girls inside.

When I went to collect the paper the next morning, I noticed tracks left in the snow. A deer had visited us in the night. Or perhaps…a faun?