There’s something freeing about going for a walk in winter. With the snow having just fallen, you’re greeted by a blank slate, nature uninterrupted. The snow dampening sound; streets that are never quiet now silent. To overcome the bite from the cold, you bundle up. Coat layered over jacket. Scarf wrapped around. Hat snuggly over ears. Gloves pulled on tight.
One of my favorite parts about the winter walk is how deliberate it is. You have to put in preparation before you head out. The whole process of getting ready to go outside builds excitement for the upcoming stroll.
Then, when you head out, you get to make your own unwalked path. The crunch of snow under your boot, marking your steps; a guide of where you’ve been. The branches of nearby trees laden with snow that’s undisturbed, possibly adorned by a few icicles. It’s a magical sight you’d normally expect only on a movie screen.
The winter walk gives you a different perspective of nature, your street, your neighborhood. Places you see every day take on a rare beauty. It’s easier to spot every bird, every squirrel, every bit of nature you’re used to overlooking.
It’s also one of the best times to slow down and connect with yourself. The calming peace the snow lays across the ground and trees extends to your walk. It’s just you, your thoughts, and the cold outdoors. With each step, you can take in everything, giving you the opportunity to appreciate all that’s around. There’s no rush—after all, you’re not walking to anywhere. You’re walking with no purpose beyond enjoying yourself. You’re simply walking.
That’s why, after every snowfall, I’m quick to bundle up, head outside, and chart my own path in the snow.