Sitting in the chair, playing at writing but mostly scrolling through social media sites – the sun shining through the window, distracting me, beckoning me. There was really no alternative, and I wasn’t looking for one. I had to walk.

I’ve been bringing black moods, inattention and impatience to the trails lately. I know that these things will be absorbed (or is that absolved?) at some point along the way. It rarely misfires. I wasn’t particularly gloomy yesterday, but I had a headache and a listlessness that was drawing me outside. By the time I heard the rush of the newly released waters of Whitemud Creek, I was in my skin. Fully in my skin. There is virtually no where else I feel completely present, completely who I am, than when I am mucking about on the trails.

I walked up to the ‘red-winged blackbird pond’ to see if there were any geese. There have been sightings, but I haven’t seen or heard any yet, and the pond was still solidly frozen, bereft of geese. The cat tails encased in ice, in repose, dusty. The sound of dry grasses whispering to each other. It was beautiful. I probably spent half an hour photographing cattails and pussywillows. It was deeply meditative. Snow and ice everywhere, and yet here was spring in the glossy fur of the willow seeds. I can’t believe how beautiful they look on their red stalks against the blue sky.

Back to the trail. Down at the bottom, I veered off to the left to check out a path that leads directly to the creek. The water was very high and very black. I made a snowball out of the sugary snow and threw it into the stream. This particular part of the trail reminds me of Maggie. She didn’t come with me because it would have been too long and too up and down for her old bones, but she is everywhere. Whitemud Creek Ravine is Maggie’s Ravine. I hope she can join me later in the spring.

The powerline is mostly ice-free, but I still pulled on my spikes for one uphill section sleek with clear ice pockmarked by gravel and dribbling water. It’s enough to bring me down. Hard. A guy goes by on his bike. He’s going slow, but still, I feel like a wimp. It’s not that I was ever fearless, but I am tentative in a way that is becoming more and more familiar, distinguishing me from my old self. I no longer walk every day, in every kind of weather. My pattern has changed, but it is still where I belong.

4C/3:00pm to 5:00pm (yesterday)

The beginning of a serious stab at Spring. We should have about 10 days of plus 5 or better, and today it’s 6 and ludicrously blue and beautiful. As it’s been for most of winter thus far, it is also treacherous. My spikes held for the entire walk, and my bones are ever so grateful. Even the ravine, or should I say, especially the ravine was a sheet of ice. I expected the sidewalks on the way to Whitemud to be a combination of ice and water, but most of the snow pack in the ravine was crème brûlée’d along the hills and valleys, and I’m pretty sure I too would have been crème brûlée’d if not for the spikes. A lot of other people were wearing them too. Should have worn them when I was shoveling last week. Took a dive on the driveway and hit my head on the cement. Hard. No noticeable cognitive impairment. Ah well, the roads and trails should be fine in a few weeks. Maybe I’ll even be back into my runners.

Not too much bird activity in the woods. I could hear all our usual winter companions in the distance but few close by, except for one little chickadee who followed me part of the way home.

12:30 to 2:30/6C

Does a walk around the neighbourhood count? What if my efforts were courageous, nay even heroic? It’s been a wonky winter. More freeze/thaw situations than in previous years, and a hell of a lot more rain. It reached 7C on Thursday, and then it poured. Last night it snowed about 3 or 4 cm, and so now, Saturday, the temperature has dropped to -13C and the sidewalks are a combination of ruffled ice, sheets of ice, and sweet, sweet death. And yet…the sun is out! It’s beautiful, so I had to walk. Those stupid spikes don’t stay on and I’m wary of heading into the ravines, but to the depths of my being I needed to be under the sun, absorbing vitamin D and all the other good things the blue skies and sun radiate. With my face toward the sun, it was actually warm, and I was able to shed my mitts for half the walk. I even think I heard a robin. I teetered in the middle of the road, searching the tops of spruce trees for a hint of red, but the robin, if indeed it was a robin, stayed hidden. By the end of the half hour walk, I was thoroughly restored, upright, the robin had disappeared, and my pocket contained a Mars Bar. Just as nature intended.

-13C/3:33PM

Ouch. Long time since posting. Excuses: it’s been cold, and I’ve been lazy. Last week, another mini-melt, and more freezing rain. Friday night, 15cm of snow. It’s a tri-polar winter.

Was over in Rossdale on Saturday feeding cats, and took myself for a walk around the river. Actually, it wasn’t much of a walk. I left my sister’s place around 4:45, so the sun was already dimming, but still beautiful. Walked through mounds of almost virgin snow (which was a bit of a slog) from her place to the Low Level Bridge, proceeding across to the south side with the intention of doing a loop around the river to Louise McKinney. I noticed a (slightly dubious) guy on the other side of the bridge. I make a point of being aware of my surroundings, especially if twilight looms and I know I’m going to be alone on the trails. And son of a bitch if he didn’t show up as I was walking under the bridge! He said, “Happy Valentine’s Day”, and I said, “you too”. He then tried to initiate a conversation about the weather – under the fucking bridge. I didn’t stop, and when I reached the stairs, I turned around and he was just standing there, half obscured by the wall. So, I aborted my plans for the looping walk (which would have been beautiful), walked up the stairs and back over the bridge, taking the short walk up to Louise McKinney and downtown. There were more people on the north side of the river, and I did not see that guy again. He didn’t follow me. Took a bunch of photos of the gorgeous late afternoon light, and then headed home.

It’s hard to say whether this guy would have been trouble. Probably not, but in the 20 years I’ve been walking in the river valley and ravines of this city, I’ve never had an issue, and I intend to keep it that way. The few times I’ve felt threatened, real or not, I have paid attention to my intuition and turned around, or did whatever was necessary to put myself out of the way of potential harm. Over the years, friends and family have often expressed their opinion that the river valley, and especially walking alone in the river valley, is dangerous. Well, I haven’t found this to be true. I pick my times, and pay attention. On the up side, at least someone wished me a Happy Valentine’s Day!

5C (Saturday)

The city has turned to ice. It’s been so warm, new and giant puddles are forming everyday, and we’ve also had rain, mostly in the evenings. Rain, melting, freezing, slipping. The sideways are covered in great swaths of grey ice (I peripherally know someone who broke a hip last week), and the ravines, or at least the descent into the ravines, is a nightmare. Yesterday, it was so beautiful outside I wanted to be out, even for a short time, to get a dose of sunshine and hopefully unload my heavy mood, but I was only partially successful. I walked to a 7-11 (to get a Mars Bar, ahem) and the 20 minute walk on the east side of the powerline was pure ice.

Good thing I wore my spikes, but they are apt to spring off my feet, which they did several times. When I came home, the neighbour’s kid was playing hockey, on skates, in the cul de sac. It was kinda funny. Their beautiful dog Teddy is not amused by the ice, but at least he can stay upright, unlike Maggie. It’s a shame to have all this gorgeous weather in combination with bone-threatening ice. When I am able, I’m going to head over to the Running Room and replace my old crampons. They were little miracles. Pricey little miracles.

No walk today.

6C (at 10:30am)

Right on time, or at least around the same time as last year. Yesterday, I drove home in the pouring rain. It made the snow, especially on the driveway and sidewalks, incredibly slippery, in spite of the warm temperature. When I woke up this morning, it was already 7C. When I went for a walk around 2:00PM, it was 9C. Incredible. I was trying out yet another pair of crampons, which got me down the powerline hill in Whitemud Ravine, but did not stay on my boots along the trails. Fuck. I should have just got the Running Room rubber spike thingies. They worked brilliantly for five or six years, until the the back broke on both last spring.

It was just beautiful in the woods. The creek is still mostly snow and ice-covered, but around the curve near the hill, it had a glistening layer of slush on the surface. So pretty, especially against the umber soil of the cliff, and the take your breath away blue of the sky.