Call me a winter person, but there’s something remarkably refreshing about a brisk, cold walk through a snow enveloped land. Something about the crisp air and the seemingly damp & dreary atmosphere makes me reflective.
I feel Narnian.
I want to curl up and write a novel.
I could dismiss all my responsibilities and traipse through the snow for the perfect picture.
But the back of my mind tells me I can’t. It stomps the rampant thoughts and ideas whisking through my head. It brings me slowly back to reality. My duties. My work. My commitments. And then I console myself by marveling at the landscape. Taking in every last morsel of winter and wonder. It’s what I’ll store in my head as I work. What I’ll do come back to eventually.
A promise. Soon.