Rethinking the cold.

Rethinking the meaning of cold, on a winter ski adventure.

Rethinking The Cold

“Ten kilometers, are you crazy?”

“It’s a great trail, you’ll have fun” Michael smiled knowingly. He had skied the trail before, but I did not consider myself as adventurous or agile. I frowned and he persisted.

“You have to see the place, and unless you want to wait and hike in, it’s the only way. You really will have a lot of fun.”

I’m not sure what came over me or why I caved but now, a few days later, standing in the parking lot with my breath freezing through each exhale, I couldn’t help but take a moment for internal scolding. Mike handed me an opened tangerine.

“Eat this, it’ll give you energy” he smiled.

A Blue Jay landed on the picnic bench nearby and seemed to scold me as well. I laughed and spoke directly at the bird,

“Yes I know he’s crazy. Dragging me out in -20 weather, and I’m all the more crazy to listen, but here we go!” The bird watched as we fitted into the skis and Michael tossed the backpack over his shoulder.

By this time I have to admit, the excitement was welling up inside of me. Actually I think it was there all along, being beaten down by my trepidation, but the warm sunshine, the silent intrigue of the forest before us, and our only entourage being the lovely Blue Jay, all served to pull my mind away from the rat race of life.

In that moment I reflected on the internal wisdom I had been ignoring for too long: there is much more to life than the constant keeping up with it. There was a juxtapose in my understanding of warmth and contentment. I could have been curled up, on that beautiful Saturday morning, sipping cappuccino in front of the television, tuning out the bitter cold that persisted outside, but would that really contribute to my warmth and contentment inside? Food for thought, I had decided, as the ski’s found their way into the nicely groomed tracks as we began our adventure.

The end goal: a visit to Grey Owl’s Cabin.

FireFly. Written for The Writer's Cramp. 349 words.