Almost every morning, I take a walk around my neighborhood. Even on cold days, or icy days, I never regret going outside. I never know what I might see. One day, a whole flock of robins had gathered in these ice-coated branches. I heard them before I saw them.
Today it was very icy. I walked a few blocks down the street, and then ventured over a slick snow mound to get to the path by the brook. Someone had cut a few steps into the huge pile, but once I reached the top, I just sat and slid the rest of the way down the other side. After I stood up again I realized that I was committed now–there would be no way to get back up from that side.
So I walked over to where the trail began, and looked at the shininess of the frozen rain-covered snow. In order to keep from slipping, even with yak-trax on my boots, I ended up stomping through the crust at the edges of the path. Still, this has been my favorite part of my morning walk, to be next to the flowing water, surrounded by trees, breathing in the freshened air.
Even in the city there are these pockets of wild nature. Even with construction going on just beyond the view of my lens. Even when I think I want to stay inside, there so many wordless reasons to put on heavy coat, hat, scarf, and boots and greet my earthly neighbors.