It is an unusually cold December morning. The thermometer says it is -21C. The sky is dark blue. Here and there a star flickers. It has been more than 16 years since my last drink – my wife and three children have never seen me touch alcohol – but still I remind myself every morning that waking up refreshed, relaxed and with the people I love is not something to take for granted.
Everything is white. The trees seem to be covered in icing. I hold my five-year-old boy’s hand and lead him to the car. We are on our way to preschool. This is all perfectly ordinary to him. The snow squeaks under our feet. It sounds like we are walking on potato starch.
