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What do you love? Write about it and reconnect with the things you love to do. The snow was soft, not crusted over despite the cold, as we trudge-tramped over the parking lot we couldn’t enter with the car, across the field, and up the hill. Trudge makes it sound like hard work, and snowshoeing is work, but enjoyable, rhythmic work.

When we reached the hill, the girls moved steadily up up up. At the crest we turned and looked out over the trail and fields, the late afternoon sun shedding that magical, golden light over the tree tops.

My big girl dropped her mittens; the little one flopped on the ground. I pulled out a narrow silver thermos and poured steaming cups of hot cocoa. The dog dashed and darted sending up snow spray. By the time I turned around, the golden tree tops had turned a dusky purple.

I took a deep, cold breath and smiled. I had almost forgotten that I love snowshoeing. My snowshoes have gotten dusty from little use. The secret to enjoying winter was getting out it in sometimes, but that’s been hard. We’d all manage to get dressed to be out only to have a wet diaper or somebody who needed to go potty NOW. We had little ones crying because they couldn’t walk in the snow that was up near their waist but too impatient and independent to go in the backpack.

But this year? My kids worked on their snow fort today waiting for the school bus. Some days I call them in at near dark. We all go sledding. And now we can all go snowshoeing.

We came back with rosy cheeks and chilly fingers, smelling of cold air. I was energized and yet ready for a good night sleep too. The fire felt especially cozy, that other side of enjoying winter.

Sometimes we need to dust off the things we like to do. If you want to do that, join me for Write What You Love next week. Over three days, we’ll explore in writing things we love and get inspired to get up an do something.

Write What You Love is a free, three-day writing practice

What’s something you love to do that you haven’t done in a while?

Tell me in the comments or use this a writing prompt: I used to love to . . .