Goodbye to Christmas, to the twelve nights, to the fairy lights.

Today we joyfully exhausted ourselves sledging down Kite Hill on Hampstead Heath.
We arrived after school, when the sun was a huge golden Orange hanging between the trees.
The snow is powdery deep.
We stayed til I couldn't feel my hands and the stars were out.
People were silhouettes against the glowing night sky, waiting at the top of the hill to descend. And the decent was faith because you could hardly see where you were going. You just knew the route because you'd done it 20 times already.
I ran up that hill like I was a child again.
It didn't occur to me that it was steep or tiring.
My back is remembering now though.
And I have no photos.
No evidence of the beauty, the adrenalin or my fearless son.

Christmas was a good one and I am fatter for it. Beginning the year is harder as real decisions need to be made. But this weekend I plan on enjoying the thrill of the snow. I don't often feel like this.
I hope you are enjoying your winter.