Usually, in the winter, I prefer to spend a lot of time indoors, reading, writing, working on jigsaw puzzles. But these past couple of days, in the midst of a stormy, snowy blizzard, I had this great urge to be outdoors. The temperature was bearable, our snow covered trees provided protection from the winds, and the gently falling snow made the world resemble the inside of a snow globe. Snow flakes fluttering before reaching the ground, often being swept away by the wind.
Going outdoors in the winter is so much more inviting when it is something you want to do, versus something you have to do.
I found my snowshoes, dusty from lack of use, and stepped out into a wonderful wintery wonderland. The tracks I had made, yesterday, had all but disappeared.
It’s amazing how quiet the world is when you are surrounded by snow covered trees. The rustle of autumn’s old brown and yellow leaves, the crackles of winter’s bare branches, make me believe that when a tree falls in the forest when no one is there; it makes a noise.
Groovy Tales of a Well Adult 