Strange Weather

And a Stranger World

Cold weather is only good for hot beverages, Christmas lights, and life-changing snow storms. Aside from those, cold weather is basically useless (I've determined). Since it hasn't properly snow here since last February, Winter has never been so pointless as it is this season and, so far, the only redeeming moment was the day the thermometer reached 50 degrees in the middle of January.

That was the day I finally decided to trek into the wilderness that had since become a stranger. I threw on a jacket, two pairs of pants (because you never know when you might lose one), slung on my equipment, and set out for the hills and meadows which are much less impressive than they sound.

Once I set foot on the unchanged trails, the familiar scent of thawing earth filled my head and time slowed because I was home again. Beneath my feet, the ground was void of snow and everything surrounding was still and eerily calm (If it hadn't been for the occasional, rippling breeze I would have completely lost myself in the silence).

And, for a while, I did lose myself. The edge of cold was biting at my skin, the clapping shutter echoed through the swamp, and my bare hands gripped the damp limbs of trees while a since-forgotten story ran through my head and attempted to reach out to the camera. And somewhere, in those silent woods, on that strange day, I found myself in the stillness, suddenly able to let go of an old anxiety.