The winter days are the hardest, sometimes, with the sky so slow to brighten only to be clouded out by rain. You run through the rain anyway, splash over puddles and up hills. It is harder than it used to be. It hurts a little more.
But you keep going. Run home to your sleeping daughter, her face turned toward your husband’s like he is the sun. Run home and stretch and shower while they sleep. Knit something to warm your body. Drink hot tea to soothe your throat.
And then rest. Repeat again. This time it rains when you go for your walk, so you sit on the pavement close to home. Teach your daughter the word for earthworm. Watch her build a bridge with her body, watch her try to roll down the hill. The rain soaks through the knees of your pants. You drag the forest home on the hem of her dress.
This last picture? That’s Lily’s attempt at rolling down the hill, raindrops in her eyes and everything.