On March 7, 2007, on a balmy day that promised an early spring, I slipped on some invisible black ice and cracked my head open. Eight stitches later my body felt bruised and beat up, an outer manifestation of my crashing economic and romantic situations at the time. What appeared to be a beautiful day turned into a "whack on the side of the head" that got me moving in a new direction in my life. What's the point here? I like what I can see. Not the invisible black ice hidden in some imaginary scene of happily ever after.
So when I go out walking in sub freezing temperatures like today, I relish the patches of gleaming ice I can carefully avoid. I like "snow days" when I can slow down the pace, eat junk I normally avoid, in short, get to enjoy sick days without being sick. Or it's like playing hookie without any penalty. I admit I have spent days streaming obscure TV series on Netflix without getting out of the pjs, but that luxury soon led to insomnia from lack of exercise. So I put on my trusty yaktrax, as you know from earlier posts, and resumed my Boston walking.
Today I saw these prickly nuts—excuse me I don't know the correct name—dotting the snow mounds along Massachusetts Avenue beside the Church Park apartment complex. I picked up several and took a picture of them (above) once I was back in my cozy apartment. A moment of beauty amidst the graying snow becoming more ugly with dog urine stains, cigarette buts, and assorted trash. Some new snow will cover the dirt, get us closer to first place, and maybe even give us a few more snow daze.
Counting "Smoots" is moot when you're trudging across the Mass Ave bridge. |
More runners than you might expect are out doing their thing no matter the temps. |
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