Winter walk, with a hint of Spring


Ahh, a walk. How I miss a daily walk. Today I almost missed it again, out of winter habit. It was also an exercise in noticing surroundings, carried over from writing.  This is a random glimpse into how my brain runs on and on…sometimes with reason, often naught.

Today the traffic from the freeway is a droning sound, low and high pitched at the same time. Cars and semis competing for space in the two lane highway. Many birds out. A crow with his demanding caw caw. Smaller birds that make me think of spring, sweet insistent trilling high in the trees, and the frequent tweets of birds flying from bush to bush, no songs particularly but shouts. When my foot walks on the gravel it is a scraping sound of rubber across rocks. When I misstep into the snow at the edge it crunches while packing the crystals tighter. The sounds are funny so my feet make a game of it. 1-2-3 regular steps the 4th a crunch into the snow. The delicate ice edges crackle. I see snow covered yards, but the street is clear. Piles of dirty snow, yesterday’s plaything pushed to the sides with street dirt covering it. A Dixie cup, notes from my own trash can on a scrap of paper, dog poop, a slug bug, 3 for sale signs, many basketball hoops, two bbqs on the porch, a sturdy plastic toddler slide in the front snow. I notice how our neighborhood leans. The stop signs, the street signs and even the light posts lean, after steady pummeling of the wind whipping across the fields. The sky is gray and low, hiding much of what is beyond, yet so bright I wish I’d brought sunglasses. The air is cold, yet tolerable. My thighs ache with each step, shouting “hey, we’ve been sitting all winter, give us a break!” But I march on; insistent they cooperate so as to take advantage of this break in the weather. My body has missed the fresh air. I love winter and the coziness that come with it, but towards the end I remember how I love to throw all of the windows open and breathe in the fresh air, both carry their own form of gloriousness. Today, they collide. Each uncertain as to whose turn it is. Tomorrow will give another clue…


About christasterken

Committed to a life of purpose. Learning to live abundantly. Embracing creativity. Questioning. Delighting in the comforts of home and family. Determining not to settle only for how things are, but how they could be. Writing is part of who I am, so I trust In God who gave the gift to show me how I can serve Him through it. That is my life…one word at a time. Psalm 89:11a“Teach me your way , O Lord, and I will walk in your truth”

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