A Winter’s Walk



The sky is dully lit up like a giant spotlight with a dark brown sheet draped over it. The pure, brilliant white ground stretches infinitely. It glows against the dark like a dim light of its own. Although it is night and there are not any lights around, everything can be seen as brightly as day. 

I sit on the ground sinking into the deep snow that molds to my shape like a memory foam chair. I notice parts of my body feel colder than others. Possibly due to where my clothes are weaker and letting the snow seep in. 

I hear the faint swooshing of cars racing through slush somewhere in the distance, but where I sit I am alone. I do not feel lonely, but I am, in fact, alone. Without contacts the streetlights I can see in the distant horizon sparkle and blur making colorful circles that decorate the night sky. They look like confetti. The imagines all blur together like an impressionist painting. From where I stand they are meaningless dots, but upon closer examination they all make distinct objects.



The snow is falling still and like cool rain it drips down my cheeks but I have stopped feeling it long ago. It is one of those things that seems like such a strong sensation at first you think it surely will ruin your walk, but after a few minutes it somehow becomes unnoticeable. I keep looking up to see the wind drifting by in millions of white speckles to know that the snow has not yet stopped. I cannot feel it. Though I can see my breath, I feel warm and content. 

I stand and wander on a little further. My feet pull through the heavy snow which slows my pace like walking through sand. I stop, turn, lean back and drop cautiously to the soft blanket of snow. It is like doing a trust fall. I know the impact will not harm me because the ground is cushioned now, but it still takes some effort to allow myself to fall. I spread my arms wide as I fall and once I have landed I move them gently to my sides and then back out, spreading my angel wings. It feels harder to get up than I remember as a child. I stumble forward and worry I’ve ruined the whole design. Yet there is the vibrant light of the night, I can see the imagine perfectly. 

I continue my walk examining the same things that I see every day, but somehow they all look new. Objects appear different in the dim glow of the night. Objects look different dusted with snow. Objects look different with the new perspectives you bring to them from growth in emotions, wisdom, education, and age. Everything that was once the same, can always look different at a different time. 

I see the luminous sky blue of the pool. I can imagine it full of water. I can imagine my fingers pushing through it as I swam laps from one side to the other. My feet kicking swiftly but delicately through the clear water. I can remember how eerily bright it looked on dark, gray days. I can remember the sharp sparkles of the water as rays of summer sun hit the little waves that splashed around. Now it is empty, but still glowing blue. With snow all around it, it reminds me of photographs I’ve seen of glaciers in the Arctic. How do they get to be so blue? 



The trees look spectacular with coatings of glittery white lounging across their branches. Trees are always beautiful, but something in the way the snow paints them uniquely, brings out a deep seated sense of peace. It is as if they are the symbol of all that is peaceful. My heart is warm and content, my mind is dancing with wonder as it takes in all the images. I may, merely, be wandering around my own backyard, but it feels like an adventure. There are adventures everywhere for the mind that is open to them.




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