I woke up this morning in a foul mood. Everything irritated me. It was that kind of feeling that had way too much destructive energy behind it. OK. (Close your eyes gentlemen) It was PMS.
I struggled through my day wondering how I and every other human being on the planet had somehow made it through the last one when I decided I needed to take a very long and serious walk to clear my head. Well, anyone living in North America today noted that it was -27C with the windchill and snowing up a storm. PERFECT! It suited the mood.
Now with over a foot of snow on the ground, one cannot hike in the bush without assistance. So I strapped on my snowshoes and stomped off into the trees, much to the relief of my long suffering husband. Did I mention I am NOT in very good shape?
It didn’t take very long before the burn in my muscles and the sweat – yes even in this cold – slowed me down long enough to step back into the beauty that a cold winter day can bring.
The trees cracked and swayed with gusts of wind and the snow that had been captured high up in their branches crashed to the ground making the forest temporarily invisible. I had not an ounce of the power in my mood that Nature was tossing playfully about while she lay down her snowy cloak.
Peace had returned and the creative urge began to slowly shift out the destructive mood like dawn pushes out the darkness. And as I walked deeper into the forest, each step brought me back to myself and back into the moment. I turned around, briefly, to see my snowshoe prints. Each step further left another to history. And then the wind began to wash them away.