Come winter, there is something other than a chill in the air.
Morning light has magic. The invisible becomes visible.
We breathe like dragons, wisps and puffs of exhales dance before our faces.
Our frozen vehicle slowly begins to thaw beneath us just as we pull into school. After drop off, I sit at the crosswalk the warm air finally wrapping itself around me. I sit and I watch.
The winter air and morning light let me be a spectator for moment unlocked from the daily routine of task to task to task to task.
I sit and I watch an odd, fantastical parade. There are big men and women attached to little monsters, a kitty cat here and there, some bears, and rabbits, and crowned royalty. A monster looks absentmindedly down the street right back at me as his hand is held and he is guided across the street up the stairs to school. A small herd of pandas, cats, and puppies cloaked in winter layers scurry along the sidewalk up the stairs to school.
I watch this impromptu parade of bundled characters in scarfs, mittens, coats, and can’t help but smile a little at all the fun hats. The hats that (perhaps unbeknownst to the grownups that bought them) have transformed the children giving them the power to reveal the magical, fantastical, imaginative world that they live in and that we grown-ups should visit just a bit more often.