I’m hunkered against the cold, my shoulders around my ears, my chin in my coat. I feel betrayed by the weather, assaulted by the wind. Of all the discomforts, resisting where I am feels the worst.
Walking is for being present, for being exactly where you are when you are there. It’s why I don’t wear headphones, why I’m as happy to walk alone as not, why I walk so very much. No surprise: despite all this cold, I’m looking to reclaim my walks. From under my hat and behind my scarf, I wage my battle against the elements. I choose to be curious.
Where’s the bird I hear? What’s it saying? How much frost beards the storm drain? What’s become of the crocuses? Can I find a route that’s all in the sun — and out of the wind? Why is that there?
My head comes up. My shoulders go down. The world comes in.
A little curious — even in short chilly bursts — I reconnect with myself, my place, the very thing I’ve been resisting.
In the depth of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.~ Albert Camus