Showshoeing’s blissful peace

Some Sundays, when the snow falls and there’s nothing much urging you to leave the house, there’s a little something to consider. It’s a soft feel, a whisper really, that comes when you look outside the window and see the trees, gilded in their powder cloaks. Eventually, as the afternoon starts its long drag to nighttime’s finish, and the couch’s comfort dwindles in the face of those hours, you might start to heed that call to take a trek out of doors.

And what opportunities are on offer to you!

Today, though, consider the humble snowshoe, that clever device that lets you step across the powder deep into the shaded woods. Moving slow, breathing fast, you might come across wildlife still awake, or even some other people as lost as you are amid the silent trees.

The more life tends to build, with its endless meetings, goals, requirements, and laundry days, I find I crave the quiet moments: morning coffee, a good book with a cat on the lap, a long hike. Winter tends to forbid the last one, but with the snowshoes, I get it. A chance to escape into that natural paradise so often buried by business.

Alas, while showshowing calmed my mind, it did not shovel my driveway. Life, turns out, can only be held at bay for so long.

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