A full-on white Christmas, perfect for the new snow-shoes I’ve picked up for Linda and I. Dallas and I spent yesterday at Fanshawe Lake in London, with the snow thick in the air around us, perfect pine and earth smells, and undisturbed snow before us. We ventured in, found a marked trail that hadn’t yet been disturbed, and took my new trompers out for their first real test. It was sweet. We spent the afternoon in there, looking across the lake at a wall of white that obscured everything, but was beautiful in itself for its expanse, its sweep, its wholeness. The trees were heavy with snow, and the drifts matched the height of the farm fences in places. It was falling so thickly that I was breathing it into my lungs, and I felt its life around me.
I’ve discovered another winter activity that leads into the woods, exhausts my dog, and lets me explore quiet places in solitude.
Dallas, my old girl, worked so hard, and I kept insisting she run ahead of me to break the snow, but she didn’t take long to figure out that following my trail was much easier, and that was that. Any time I’d hurry her along in front, she’d soon stop to chew the snowballs out of her paws, and I’d have to go around her anyway. We’d gone out for just an hour the day before at Springbank park, and I had to fight to keep her out of the cross-country ski tracks.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately of friends past and present. Knowing full well that some of those I consider friends present must believe they’re in the friends past list. Some must damn me for inattention and more. I can’t do much more than be who I am though, and for me, the dividing line is illusory. No, we may not hang out all that much. No, the phone lines aren’t ringing with our voices. You feel what you will, my feelings for that person I knew when are still there, and hearts don’t change all that much over time.
I’ve had a couple of days to “be alone” with family, with Linda off in Peterborough, my brother briefly here and then gone. I’ve made some calls, driven around London awash in its 8 years of memories, and left other calls unmade. -There are those for which my heart has no voice-
I’ve felt this urge to dash around, making visits and rekindling contact, but somewhere the steam left off. I had a nice talk with Jen, and then a visit with Christina last night- some who came late into my life, but whose lives and voices are speaking to me now. There are others who I tried to reach but couldn’t, but the list of those I knew and haven’t called is long. I think I’m done being conflicted about that. I feel love and gratitude for the moments of friendship I’ve had along the way, and I wait in peace for those times to come again.
Happy Christmas everyone.
