Running a Muddy Trail
Icy Lashes
{ 02:16, 20 February 2008 }
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The view through icy lashes is a familiar one. Nothing has changed really, from the past few days, and we've all seen snow before. The familiarity though, is what makes observation fascinating. On a snowy day, one visiting a new place will forever associate that place with a blanket of snow. At home though, each day comes with its own subtly unique features. The view, through icy lashes, is difficult to decipher. The thick snow falling, the cause of the aforementioned icy lashes, obscures trees, buildings, and potholes. A runner is a bit more hesitant than usual with her foot placements.
The view, through those icy lashes, is a quiet one. The recent turn of the weather, back into winter mode has muffled the bird songs and the runner makes footprints along the single car-track trail on the street. Plenty of wood smoke billows out of each house's chimney, but it is a silent participant as usual, and there is not enough wind in this valley to turn the squeaky whirley-gigs of the furnace caps.
The view through icy lashes is an isolated one. The shadow of a person moves past a window in a house, but this is all. The raised red flags indicate that the mailman is late and even the most enthusiastic dogs fail to rouse themselves when the runner passes today. Horses huddle in protected corners of their field and signs of anybody else having past recently are quickly obliterated by the accumulating snow. The snow started in the middle of the morning, so school wasn't canceled - and all the kids are still there. The hills show no marks of sled riding or snow ball throwing.
This view, through the icy lashes of a runner, is full of determination, pride and hope. After all, if one is out running in these conditions, what in the future could not be attempted. When spring's ideal weather rolls around, this runner won't be struggling to shed her winter slothfulness. No, her stride will be light and full of spring as the sun warms her well-seasoned tendons and her shoes can grip the solid ground once again.
Yes, the view today, through those icy lashes, is certainly inspiring. Each tree branch is lined with white, large flakes swirl tightly and a monochrome picture of the world filters through. It was the view through a closed window that got the runner out of the house in the first place. "Let's go run in THAT," she might have mentioned to her running shoes, "I bet its not even very cold out."
The view through icy lashes is ... getting a bit damp. No, its not particularly cold out, not sub-0 at least, and the snowflakes have a bit of Stick to them. They employ that Stick, not just on lashes, but on chins, hats, shoulders and pant legs - where the heat generated by muscle contraction kick starts the melting process. Ice over deeper puddles is not so thick, and thanks to their cloak of snow, not entirely unavoidable. Several have been broken into and a bit of their water borrowed to help keep her shoes wet.
The viewer through icy lashes is grateful. Grateful to have this chance to go running, running in the snow, and to be able to return home to a well-warmed wood stove and a cup of tea; Grateful that such places exist still, where one can be alone with the weather, and safe from an unexpected turn of events due to a friendly and accessible community of friends and neighbors; Grateful simply for the physical ability of self-propulsion.
The view through icy lashes is getting a bit too obscured, so our runner covers her eyes with her warm hands, one at a time, to melt the crust that has formed there to clear her vision - for at least a few moments.
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{ 02:31, 20 February 2008 } { Posted by gabbie427 }What a beautiful post!!! Thanks for sharing!
God's Blessings,
Amy Jo
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