Play One on TV

Saturday morning, January 21st, 6:30 am. We are encamped at Trapper’s Rendezvous just outside of Newton, Kansas. The temperature is just shy of 25 degrees. A rime of frost covers the walls of each tent, both inside and out; I remember brushing some of it off my sleeping bag when I first awoke. My breath laces the air in front of me with a mist so thick that I think I could write in it with my finger.

I turn to east, surveying the creek that runs alongside our campsite. The sun is just starting to peek above the treetops, casting its golden beams across a landscape that has yet to completely shed the gray of twilight.

My son walks by, head down against the cold, working on some random morning task like gathering firewood. I reach out and grab his shoulder, turning him to face the rising sun. “Will you look at that?” I say to him quietly.

A minute later, he breathes one word. “Wow.”

The perfect moment passes, and we turn away to begin the day.