To the Moon and Back

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

There’d be no sneaking through the woods today.

Monday’s rain-dotted slush had frozen into a textured coat of icy snow, through which every footstep broke with a compacting crash.

Rain-sculpted snow
Rain-sculpted snow

This combined with my clunky snowboots, puffy attire, and the sky’s dreary light, made me feel as if I were walking on the moon. Even in the absence of wind, all 21 degrees stung my dry, winter skin. But, because the air was still — and since I was in no mood to explore — I walked the flat, open ridge to where it dives into a breathtaking ravine. There, I paused, turned around, and looked up at the sky.

The sun, straining through the clouds, was beginning to throw shadows on the snow. Steadily growing in strength, the rays invited me to linger and breathe in the chill.

Walking the flat, open ridge
Walking the flat, open ridge

Walking atop the surface without crashing through became a game, and by the time my glove touched the door knob, I had been transported back to earth, warm, happy, and home.

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