Sarah was standing at the sink with her hands in hot soapy dishwater when her son came in the sliding glass door in a small swirl of frosty air and rapidly melting snow. She turned around to see him bouncing up and down on the mat. He knew he wasn't allowed to bring his wet boots any further inside.
Sarah felt the smile starting. Josh always made her happy, no matter how the day had been going. “What, Little Man?”
She walked over to him, drying her hands on the dishtowel that had been hanging over her shoulder.
“There's a snow angel in the backyard!” he announced.
“Do you want me to come see?” She knew he did, that's why he had come inside. He nodded vigorously, pulling open the door and plunging back out into the snowy yard. There had been close to a foot of snow the night before, and it was still coming down, although lightly, now.
Sarah put her feet into her husband's boots. Oversized on her, they were easy to just pull on and go. He teased her that she wore them more than he, some winters. She stepped out the door without a jacket. It wasn't that cold, and she would only be out for a moment. Josh's little foot prints disappeared beneath hers as she followed them around the corner and into the backyard.
She was puzzled as they led down toward the pasture. Their backyard wasn't well defined, as it merged into the forty-acre hayfield that gently rolled away toward the creek a quarter of a mile from the house. Josh usually played close to home, though. He was out of sight, his little woodland camo jacket helping as his footsteps led her toward a patch of hedgerow that she kept for the blackberries. Rounding that, she found him standing still and looking at the ground. The snow was lumpy, but unmarred.
“Did you make a snow angel?” Sarah prompted.
He looked up at her, his face angelic, a snowflake clinging to one of his lashes for a second. “No, Mama, I found her here.” He pointed, and Sarah stepped closer to see what he was looking at.