Today we awoke to the first snow of the year.
There was a white dusting over everything, and the familiar horizon of layered mountains was hidden behind a thick white fog.
I smiled when I opened the door to my rondaval and saw it all. For some reason, I naturally associate the first snow of the year with a new beginning, a fresh start -- and after the past few weeks, the feeling was welcome.
It was as if the snow and the sharp, cool air gave me a chance to take a clean, fresh breathe, and move forward from the sadness.
The feeling remained even as the snow settled into a soft rain, and the dusting disappeared, and the white world turned back to its winter browns and grays.
It's strange how little things can revive you here, or suddenly twist your face into an unexpected smile and remind you that despite all the suffering -- and also in light of it -- there is so much to continue fighting for.
In the last few weeks, I have been profoundly moved by what I've seen. I have a new sense of death, a new sense of innocence, a new sense of the former's disregard for the latter.
I have also gained perspective that will stick with me the rest of my life.
What we are doing here at TTL is fighting on the side of innocence, against death's arbitrary hand. And somehow, that's enough, as long as we don't give up.
Snow or no snow, each day is a new beginning, a fresh start, another chance to fight.
All that matters is that we rise to the challenge, bruised from the day before or not.