postcards from a winter walk

Last week, I stepped out into the privacy of winter for a two mile walk.

Lured by the extra bright sunshine and the deep blue sky I crunched my way along the frozen path. The park was serene and empty on this beautiful morning. Perfect for some iphoneography!

Looking deep into the white, it was as if the cold, bright snow contained millions of teeny, tiny flash bulbs which twinkled as I walked by. Breathtaking white sparkle. I am the lone celebrity on this white carpet!

The snowplowed path is carved out like a luge track, curving between tall banks of chunky snow. The walking is easy; speedy turns and smooth straightaways. My eyes are free, trusting my feet to safely guide me.

Without any wind to blow through my layers, I don’t discern the single digit temperature, but am reminded of it as I kick a frozen snowball and it loudly skitters down the path like a styrofoam ball on linoleum.

The air so crisp and cold my throat and lungs feel like they’ve inhaled an altoid breath mint, without the mintiness.

It’s so quiet.

There are well defined shadows, full of stark contrast. They grab my attention and imagination as I start the second mile. These are not scary shadows, they are modern and conspicuous. The smudged network of delicate branches stretch long and silent across the endless white, like a stencil on a bedroom wall.

If I bend my head to look a certain way, the border of the trail illustrates a little city, it’s black skyline hugging the banks of a frozen river. Chicago? Paris? Hmm.

My own shadow is an impressive giant.

I am delighted I brought my camera today. What a walk! It’s over before I know it. Already, I feel the afterglow of its impressions alight upon my spirit. My soul is warmed by this cordial sodality with the Earth.

 

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