Our thermometer showed -2 degrees this morning. As I predicted yesterday, slush had turned to a thin layer of treacherous ice. I cycled to the gym so slowly and carefully that I might as well have walked. Pilates was surprisingly tougher than I thought, but on my level-tough. Waking up before 6 three days in a row has taken its toll, however. Once I got home, I cradled the mug of coffee in my hands as if it were the antidote to some poison that was running through my veins.
As I sipped on some liquid energy, looking out the window at our white-clad neighbourhood slowly waking up and going about its business -school kids on their bikes, much braver than I was-, I saw that the chilli seeds I planted a couple of weeks ago, which I had given up on ever breaking the surface of the pot, had sprouted. A tiny green speck of life peeked out of the earth, a little sign of spring in these early winter days.
And my foot feels fine this morning.