Through the Night

Yesterday, just before dark, I glanced out the back door (it’s a glass patio number with cat noseprints across the bottom) to see if any ice fishermen remained on the lake below.  I saw what looked like rain spots on the deck, which is presently surrounded by high berms of snow I cleared from it.

I stepped out and stepped back in.  “It’s raining,” I announced to that girl.

Fifteen minutes later, in full darkness, I stepped out the front door and stepped back in.  “It’s really, really, really raining,” I announced to that girl.

“Is that a big deal?”

“It is for January in this part of Montana.”

Rain persisted into the darkness.

This morning I stepped out the front door and stepped back in.

For a brief time I considered running back to wake that girl so I could say, “It’s ice,” but that would likely be an RLE (relationship limiting exercise).

 -- Mitchell Hegman