We woke this morning to single digits and sun.

I step outside, eyes squinting, to find the world unwrapped from it’s veil of rain and clouds. Nothing but crisp lines and clear skies as far as the eye can see. What was recently soggy ground now crunches beneath my boots and the little ponds have frozen solid. Smooth, dark ice that captures the blue of the sky and reflects back a deeper hue than the one above.

The sun, sitting low in that field of blue, is lacking in warmth but making up for in light. Photographers talk of the golden hours, but now, as the year turns, we have golden days. Shadows are long, colors are rich and the dogs running through the fields are surrounded by a constant halo of light, backlit, even at midday.

Clouds from dogs’ breath trail behind them as if they were small steam engines and milkweed pods burst open as they fly past. Seeds lit golden by the sun are caught by the biting wind and swirl off out of sight.

As I walk, my cheeks stiffen from the wind and cold – a small price to pay for a morning out in single digits and sun.