A February Walk

This morning I took a walk to the bakery one neighborhood over. I felt like a mountain goat at each intersection, scaling snow banks in my hoofy clogs to avoid the puddles and tributaries that have sprung up in the melt. We’ve left the first shock of winter behind. The snow is stratified, melted and re-frozen. Buds are swelling on the trees and all of the wetness has the moss and lichens looking juicy.

Still, it takes effort to love the city in February.

I’ve been leaving the house like Pollyanna, looking for the good in everything. I’m so happy to see the old, pungent, sausage shop around the corner- I’m grateful to be able to smell its smoky meats from a few blocks away. I seek out the humor in the tags on light posts and dumpsters- the way folks play off of one another, communicating, joking, razzing. I peer into fenced off lots and look at the tracks of cats and raccoons and so many rats criss-crossing the muddy snow. Above me hawks soar on updrafts and squirrels perform punchy spring-like acrobatics. All around seed pods are cracking, dropping the next generation on the snow for a slow melt to the earth.

Spring is coming!