Do you remember that time we went on a walk? I didn't want to, it was so cold outside that I wanted to stay home in front of the fireplace, but you threw me a second scarf and dragged me outside. It was a good decision, forcing me out, even though you laughed as I waddled uncomfortably on the slippery snow. The sun was out, and it reflected off of the snow to light up the world. Everything dazzled, and we were held in that moment, unable to move lest we shatter everything. So we stood there, and saw, and tried to see who could get their now-visible breath to shoot out farther before it dissipated.
We strolled through the woods behind your house, slowly, so we didn't miss anything. You pointed out all of the coniferous plants and what they were called, and I squealed when I saw a tiny stream of rabbit tracks lightly darting across the snow.
I think you spotted it before me but didn't say anything, since you knew how much I loved finding animal tracks. But when you stumbled across the rabbit scat, a pile of tiny acorns, you couldn't hide your excitement.