Random stuff, reflections on the meaning of life and death, humour, self-deprecation, a bit of bad poetry.

I came across this old post from three years ago and decided to save it here. I remember that walk vividly. We don’t get nearly enough walks these days and I feel really guilty about it.

Decided to be mindful during my Sami walk just now and avoid the usual direct line between points A and B. We started off by leaps and bounds, zig zags and wig wags, all the way to the park, with the wind hurrying us along and Sami turning around periodically to make sure I was keeping up. We scaled the snowbank blocking the entrance to the path, lost and regained our footing, slid to the bottom, fell into snow craters left by big feet, and jumped into others on purpose. We surged ahead on the smooth parts, paused to sniff the air for friends and left our mark so they’d know we had waited.  Noses down, we investigated EVERYTHING, unearthing relics from last summer, eating leftover leaves and twigs from fall and washing it all down with crunchy January snow.  We chased scaredy squirrels and barked at anyone who would listen, “Hey, are you there? We’re over here!”. We raced up the hill, caught our breath at the top and coasted down the other side, hesitating ever so slightly at the fork in the path at the bottom before turning right. The snowbank loomed ahead but this time we got stuck on its icy steepness and had to be carried over. The wind from the South met us on the other side making us balk at the thought of going home. That is until we remembered cookies waiting. Flipping a rude finger at points A and B, we sprinted as fast as we could, arriving happy and spent and ready for whatever was next. And that was our Sami walk today.

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