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WALKING IN THE SNOW
February 21, 2015
And the walk continued.
Without lifting my head, I made five steps ahead. The boots were sliding. What may look like an innocent fall for a child, may trigger a huge disaster for my body. Finally, I looked up. I saw a little black dog with its owner - far in the distance. I was jealous of the owner, because the dog was slowly, but confidently, leading the way. He knew where the street curb was. At the same time, the dog gave me walking directions. He was a much more superior being than me.
All in all, the dog was my hero. I saw the mailbox. It was full of mail. I shoved it in my pockets in a rush.
The trip back was easier, I followed my winding footsteps. As I reached the garage, I had to pat myself on the back. Next, I saw my husband at the door. He sensed his wife was missing.
He went through the mail and picked a handwritten little envelope.
to be continued....
Picking up the mail on a record cold and windy Saturday, was not what drove me out of the house yesterday. Dressed with my 'Nanook' jacket and water-resistant new boots, I opened the garage door; looked at the falling snow; felt the wind and decided to walk to the mailbox.
I made it to the street, moving one foot in front of the other. It appeared almost heroic to follow the footsteps I was the first one to make. No cars, no people, no dogs. Then, I stopped and looked around. Our little street was dressed in white. The snow was playing with my face and my shades. But the game was getting very rough.
I spent a few seconds debating the sanity of this trip. Nothing important comes in the mail on Saturday. Although I live with a serious medical condition, there was something about this 'white silence' I could not push aside. I couldn't get enough of it.
I made it to the street, moving one foot in front of the other. It appeared almost heroic to follow the footsteps I was the first one to make. No cars, no people, no dogs. Then, I stopped and looked around. Our little street was dressed in white. The snow was playing with my face and my shades. But the game was getting very rough.
I spent a few seconds debating the sanity of this trip. Nothing important comes in the mail on Saturday. Although I live with a serious medical condition, there was something about this 'white silence' I could not push aside. I couldn't get enough of it.
And the walk continued.
Without lifting my head, I made five steps ahead. The boots were sliding. What may look like an innocent fall for a child, may trigger a huge disaster for my body. Finally, I looked up. I saw a little black dog with its owner - far in the distance. I was jealous of the owner, because the dog was slowly, but confidently, leading the way. He knew where the street curb was. At the same time, the dog gave me walking directions. He was a much more superior being than me.
All in all, the dog was my hero. I saw the mailbox. It was full of mail. I shoved it in my pockets in a rush.
The trip back was easier, I followed my winding footsteps. As I reached the garage, I had to pat myself on the back. Next, I saw my husband at the door. He sensed his wife was missing.
He went through the mail and picked a handwritten little envelope.
to be continued....
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