Chrissy, did you see the snow in the morning? 
In our yard, it disappeared pretty quickly but I saw a bit more left in the forest and on the way there. 

You haven't traveled that far, but in the area you reach after running about 3 minutes, well I don’t know how long it may take for you, and please don’t be offended. I really adore the way you move. Like you find the meanings of some important stuff from every single step. Well, anyways,  there are strawberry fields, not so far away from here. 
When I run around there, I always think about the little old lady from a picture book I read when I was around 5, 6. Or 7, perhaps. I was reading it myself, again and again, so. 

There's this little old lady living under the ground and she takes care of her strawberries.
When her strawberries grow into proper sizes, she has to go down 100 steps to fetch special coloured water and mix it with her special materials to make the bright, delicious, red colour.
Then she goes up 100 steps to the ground level and paints the strawberries one by one.
when the paint is used up, she has to go back down and come back up again, the 100 steps every time. No escalator, no elevator. It's her life. She cares about the strawberries very much.
One day, there was an unexpected snowfall during the night.
The next morning, she saw all her strawberries were gone in the field. It was just snow so there actually were strawberries underneath, but she was so upset and couldn't think of it.
Eventually, animals came and dug the snow, to start tasting the strawberries.
The little old lady calms down, satisfied and goes to bed. 

When I saw the snow covering the ground in the morning, the first thing that came to my mind was that lady. She is probably 1 cm tall, or perhaps even shorter. I wondered how she was doing alone. 

It's also nice for me to replace her when I turn 80.
If she is planning a retirement at all......
Do you think she might be? 
And, do you feel like visiting me under the strawberry field? I hope you will. But, in that case, we have to change our sizes somehow to fit in her little house and corridors.