Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

Leaving the Garmin and the headphones at home gave me the opportunity to walk without constantly thinking about my pace, the mileage, what song was playing. Instead, I was treated to the sounds of the neighborhood and beyond as I walked. Two blocks away, someone in a garage brought out the rata-tat-rata-rata-tat-tat of the drums. Not far beyond the drummer, two groups of young men were circled up on the field of the elementary school to play ultimate frisbee. A deep voice yelled out, "Zig zaggy zig zaggy." And the group answered, "Oy, oy, oy." This they repeated three times then ended it with a raucous, "Whewwwwwww!" One member of the other group took exception to the enthusiasm and sneered, "Team cheers are so ten years ago. Get with it." As I continued on, I heard the city bus coming up behind me. I've learned their unique sound signature from the days commuting to school and the bus following me down the street every now and then. A lo...

After digging out our driveway, which was actually fun since all of us were outside, taking turns at shoveling, I finally put on the snowshoes I bought two years ago. Yes, two years ago. I've longed to get out and walk across snowdrifts, but the previous two winters, Mother Nature decided snowdrifts weren't a part of the plan for where I live. This year, since November, I've been asking Mother Nature to please, please, please let this winter be the winter I could finally wear my shiny pink aluminum snowshoes. The lovely Crone, and I say that in all honest adoration, must have heard me, for snowdrifts and snow piled high from the snow plows are now mine for the walking. I fastened the snowshoes to my boots and set off across the street to first conquer the long drift against the building used to store desks, chairs, and other miscellaneous items for the school district. The drift was about five feet high, and from the front looked very packed. Upon reaching the top, howeve...