It's the get up and go that's the hardest. In the end I always tell myself I never regret going and doing. Winter walks are the hardest, your bones are cold but the movement warms the blood.
This place is mine. I don't own it, it belongs to everyone, but I take ownership. The walk is always the same but so new. Each time I see something, hear something that amazes me. Today it was the frozen lake with the water running in the middle. The beginning and the end was a silent stillness. But where the warmth held on, and the water pushed through, the arthritic ice creaked and moaned; This is Old Man Winter.
Today I am a little sore.
I always am.
I am glad I went. With the soreness comes a clearer mind. A better appreciation. A desire to 'do something'. Anything.
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