WITH EVERY STEP the snow crunches under our feet. The dog runs ahead and occasionally saunters in yet another futile attempt to catch a vole or a mouse. She then plunges in the snow and rolls with such delight it’s impossible not to smile. It’s the wildest version of a snow angel. Pure joy expressed through a miniature snowstorm with a dog’s furriness at the center of it.
We plod along through the forest, red cheeks and all, and the landscape is wondrous. The sun shines through the branches; they are heavy with snow and there’s a sprinkle of tiny flakes every time a bird flies through the trees.
It never ceases to amaze me: being close to nature and away from the busyness of daily life we so often get lost in (by necessity often) feeds the soul in a way nothing else can. And, without fail, every time I step outside – no matter how close or far from home, I find myself pleasantly swept by a whirlpool of thoughts.