Field of Diamonds
I have been hibernating for most of the winter, wondering what i ever used to like about this miserable season. And then, i went for a walk to deliver some mail, and i remembered:
There is nothing like a beautiful winter's day.
Especially after a span of exceptionally cold days, where your safety is compromised if you leave the bear cave. Then suddenly, the temperature rises, the city is covered in a soft powder snow, the sun is out in full force and glistens on the fresh snow like a field of diamonds. Not that i couldn't get along without these occasional magical winter days in a city with a less intense winter season (the winters here tend to drag and drag and drag... what a drag). But on days like this, i marvel at the beauty of Mother Nature. Even shoveling is an enjoyable activity rather than a chore; the snow is light like feathers.
When it comes to shoveling, and most things, i happen to be a bit of a perfectionist. The shovel strokes must be in a pattern, any ice that can be chipped away must be chipped away and there is no stopping until the whole thing is done, even if your arms feel like they weigh a ton - which they do, because the boy normally does the shoveling; i was not adequately prepared for such physical labour. But it also reminds me how much i love the burn of some respectable physical labour. If i could make money through a combination of physical labour and creative/artistic forces, i would be golden.
Some new light bulbs went off last night. I'm excited, aren't you?
Taken one day at a time, each day is better than the last.
Exhale, inhale.
Breathe like a child... from the belly.
"You're doing it, Peter. You're doing it!" *imaginary pie in the face*
There is nothing like a beautiful winter's day.
Especially after a span of exceptionally cold days, where your safety is compromised if you leave the bear cave. Then suddenly, the temperature rises, the city is covered in a soft powder snow, the sun is out in full force and glistens on the fresh snow like a field of diamonds. Not that i couldn't get along without these occasional magical winter days in a city with a less intense winter season (the winters here tend to drag and drag and drag... what a drag). But on days like this, i marvel at the beauty of Mother Nature. Even shoveling is an enjoyable activity rather than a chore; the snow is light like feathers.
When it comes to shoveling, and most things, i happen to be a bit of a perfectionist. The shovel strokes must be in a pattern, any ice that can be chipped away must be chipped away and there is no stopping until the whole thing is done, even if your arms feel like they weigh a ton - which they do, because the boy normally does the shoveling; i was not adequately prepared for such physical labour. But it also reminds me how much i love the burn of some respectable physical labour. If i could make money through a combination of physical labour and creative/artistic forces, i would be golden.
Some new light bulbs went off last night. I'm excited, aren't you?
Taken one day at a time, each day is better than the last.
Exhale, inhale.
Breathe like a child... from the belly.
"You're doing it, Peter. You're doing it!" *imaginary pie in the face*
posted by one L at 10:50 a.m.
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