Most of my friends avoid venturing out when the weather turns cold and snowy...when the landscape turns soft and deep and white. But then, not many of them are lucky enough to have a house in the woods with a stream behind it where the current curls into ripples that freeze hard around the stones and glitter in the sunlight. Beneath the ice.
When I head outdoors with a snow shovel, they gaze longingly at their golf clubs.
So, this year I resolved to make this a walking winter. That was before I learned that it would be a mild one. That it would hold unanticipated delight and wonder. Deep contemplation. Pure joy.
The air was as still as if Mother Nature were holding her breath. Silence was interrupted only by the episodic barking of a dog in the distance, or a plane rumbling overhead. Never mind the fact that the Earth was spinning on its axis at a speed of over 1,000 mph and hurtling around the sun at a speed of over 18 miles per second.
The air was still. The universe silent. The woods peaceful.
The near presence of the deer.
...all of which is fine except that I still love the winter woods.