Recollections of that New Year’s Eve afternoon, as dad drove our maroon station wagon.

Leaving Pittsburgh taking Route 80 was dad’s straight shot home.

My eleven-year-old self was anticipating Dick Clark’s year-end countdown.

Trying to find a less crackling radio station searching for my favorite songs.

Slightly hearing the wetness of the salted highway road.

Stopping at a trucker’s haven for supper.

At first not paying any notice until dad told me to look up.

There was such a site to witness a doe with her two small fawns.

Trudging through the back parking lot.

Walking to our seats, I was still so mesmerized keeping my eyes fixed on nature’s wonder, through the diner’s plate glass window.

I did not hear dad order my meal.

I was in love with their big brown eyes, and their white tufted tails.

Never mind my musical selections.

All I could recall was that incredible vision.

Almost home, before that stroke of twelve midnight.

We had been blessed on that six-hour journey.

Being graced with the spiraling of winter ‘s white snow.

Shining like millions of diamonds as we passed by empty pastures.

We finally made it home and just in time.

As “Auld Lang Syne,” was ushering in another year.

Weekly Prompts Colour Challenge – Whitish