Our walkers were everywhere Saturday morning at the
cemetery, the marathoners arriving at 7:30 am, others arriving at 8:30 am, some
walking 30km, some walking once around, others twice around but all of us
nicely warm thanks to Rorie’s great advice about layering for the minus
temperatures, though I agree with Linda – at some point pyjamas and bed would
definitely be the wisest choice!
I love the winter (not just because I grew up in
Montreal); I find there is something invigorating about the fresh and cold
arctic air. The road is crunchy beneath
our feet and the landscape is monochromatic but beautiful in its starkness,
just the patterns of the tree limbs visible. Maybe it’s the sense that everything
is hibernating and still, enduring the adversity of winter while anticipating
the arrival of the spring warmth once again.
A reminder of the cycle of the seasons, coming and going, bringing with
them change and loss but also change and renewal. We are all at the age when we experience loss
of one sort or another, of people and of things. And so I think of the great Lou Reed and the
lyrics he wrote: “There’s a bit of magic in everything and then some loss to
even things out”.
