Last night, Christmas Eve, a couple hours before everyone showed up for dinner (Taco Soup) I took the Gator down by the river. It was cold. 11 degrees. I was wearing gloves and a hat but still, by the time I got inside some time later I could barely move my fingers. Away from the house a little bit, down in the cottonwood trees with a couple Sandhill cranes and a handful of magpies, it was still. The river isn’t frozen over and that water, moving slow, was about the only sound. A near silent night.
Kids are involved, so it doesn’t stay silent forever. And later, back in the house, after dinner and chocolate cake, with the kids dressed up like wise-men and shepherds, we sang some holiday favorites. At one point during the second song, we sang on key.
This is Rexburg. This is the town where I grew up. It’s good to be home.
{ Comments on this entry are closed }
