On My Walks

On My Walks

It felt good to get out in the fresh air late yesterday afternoon as I had spent most of the day at my writing desk.  The sun had already sunk below the Foothills so the temperatures had fallen quite a bit from the moderate high of the day.  A slight breeze blew making me increasingly grateful for my ear muffs.  Snow still lay on the ground with the sidewalks mostly clear.  I gazed over the hill to the homogeneously white cow pasture and the thought crossed my mind again about whether cows are surprised when the grass disappears and reappears miraculously.

I walked at a brisk pace until I realized that quite a few icy patches remained, hardened and glassy ready to resist the grabbing rubber soles of my shoes and leave me supine gazing up into the darkening sky.  So I slowed a bit and picked my way more carefully, looking down instead of up…not the way I prefer to travel.  Was it a message, a metaphor for life?

And then I turned the last corner toward home to see an almost full moon in a clear mauve sky with a stripe of turquoise at the horizon.  My feet stood on dry ground and I felt joyful.


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