Into the woods.


I crunch, crunch my heavy feet along the well-used path, unable to keep up with Skylar who bounds and leaps into snow piles, after chipmunks. I take my time, as my body demands, and notice how even though there are few colours in this palette, there is great detail to be appreciated.

We don't walk far from our neighbourhood; I can't stray too far these days. A quick hike is all I can muster, so instead of marveling at the mountains like I enjoy on the long walk, I smile at the quaint reminders of domestic hibernation around every corner.

We make our loop through the woods; Skylar has found a stick she will keep and bring home, leaving it at the front door. I round the corner onto my street, in front of my house, and return to my cozy hideaway of hot chocolate, couches and blankets for another night north of 60.

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