February 02, 2007
Over troubled water
My knee injury is healing, but I still can't risk hiking on uneven ground, through drifts of snow and patches of ice. In other words, I can't go for a walk in my own woods. But being inside all the time is driving me crazy. So on this snowy winter afternoon, I put on my boots and trudged out to the level, plowed road that runs past my house.
The road travels through the wooded area where I live and then turns towards Traintrack Village, crossing a creek just before it gets to the village. The village is quiet on a Friday afternoon, especially with mounds of fluffy snow snuggled up against houses and mailboxes. Snow fell steadily as I walked, flakes melting on my eyelashes and clinging to my hair.
On a windless day, the trees gather snow the way children might gather candy after a pinata has exploded. Every pocket of pine was filled with white. Even the bare branches of elms and maples held lines of snow, white against the grey sky. The dark green creek moved lazily underneath the bridge, moving past icy logs and steep white banks.
Lights began flickering on inside homes, each window showing a different scene: children playing some kind of game, a woman reading the newspaper, a teenager carrying logs for a fireplace. As I turned to walk back towards my own house and fireplace, a car drove past through the slush, someone hurrying home from work on a Friday afternoon.
Posted by jo(e)