Homebodies - A winter wonderland and wondering

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By Rita Friesen

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The pristine blanket of snow has not only covered a multitude of sins - (yes, even with the long open fall, not all the yard projects were completed!) - it has transformed an ordinary walk into a wonderland. There really is no ‘ordinary’ walk, every day there is a subtle shift in colour and in the progress of the season. If one looks. But this heavy covering snow has created deep and mysterious shadows under the trees while street light reflections brighten every path.

Tonight, the wind was howling and the snow driven before it. My little dogs were puzzled that we passed our turn off twice, simply because there was more to see and feel. Our corner of town is wondrously arrayed for this festive season. Some yards are filled with the sparkle of dancing laser lights. Some homes are protected by a giant snowman, or minion, or Santa. In the gale force wind they bob and sway on their anchors. Simple lines of blue lights, homes outlined with soft white lights, trees bedecked and deer and sleighs, beauty everywhere. Windows are lit, and baubled trees centre the living room. 

When ‘we’ walk after dark, my companions tend to slow down. A day walk is more like a gallop, my arms extended as Hoover and Miss Daisy rush at each new sight and smell. After dark, they still lead, at a slower pace. As we pass a house where a dog is tethered they walk a little taller, a little prouder. If a dog is watching them through a window, they adopt the same pose. Free and walking tall, taking my lady out for her constitutional! They have learned to keep to the tracks, easy travelling. And if they drag their tummies through the wet snow they know they need a warm shower to get the snowballs off. 

And so we walk, up one street and down the other. I am filled with contentment. Filled with the wonder of safely walking for miles, just out the door and down the street. The wind and I have a long term romance. Fifty steps to the north and I am free from the protective shelter of town. Head down, leaning into the wind, extending my energy to the point of needing to turn and retreat with the wind pushing me homeward. The crunch of the snow, the sparkle of the lights, the gentle wave of someone puzzled by this trio enjoying a storm. 

A winter storm walk makes me feel incredibly small and invincibly large. One very tiny being in an amazing enormous world. A speck, a living breathing speck of humanity. And large, a destined being with a destined purpose. A part of the mystery of the season. A part of the mystery of life.