At times when my heart feels an unreasoned weight, lungs beg to be purged of stale indoor air, and my wild horse spirit needs to feel free – I walk. I walk in search of magic. I walk with no destination in mind. I walk intentionally slow & cover an unmeasurable depth of ground.
Today hollow ice crunches under black leather boots. Each step a snow ensconced guess as to whether it will hold my weight or give way to the audible rolling water beneath. I trust the icy strength in places the deer & rabbit & dog tracks lead. Only a few times daring too close to the edge. Nature’s healing magic is warmly felt in early afternoon sunlight glistening on untracked snow & kisses on pink, stiffened cheeks. I pass many strangers yet find sufficient moments of desired solitude in the company of woodpeckers & spruce.
On jaunts like these I sit longer than I walk. Any dry rock or log will do just fine for a seat and if there’s none, I’ll squat until my legs go numb. I pause indefinitely at water’s edge, instantaneously mesmerized by the music & dance of what remains flowing in a frozen late winter stream.
When I remember the grace of floating in infinite space on a big ball of rock & such, I can almost feel the spin. When I remember who I am & life’s eternal creative possibilities, I am reborn. I love forgetting this magic, only to discover it anew. May we all realize life anew, over & over & over, for as long as we live.