Today I woke up to snow pounding against my windows. Or at least that is what it felt like. Thick snow flakes, and a blanket of snow covering the ground. I'm over this, is what I was thinking. I'm over the cold. I'm over slipping and falling on the road when walking my dog. You see he pulls the leash, sometimes right out of my hand, and runs off, with my shoulder out of joint and sometimes I fall. Sometimes my ankle or knee will give out. My body feels about 86 years old most of the time. The last thing I need is a slip and fall or a break. (Actually, the only thing I need is a break!)
Anyway, the snow came again. Despite last weekend being 70 degrees and sunny. Snow came about a week before that, despite taking E for a picnic on UVA lawn with Take it Away sandwiches, closely monitoring the car parked in 15 minute parking. The snow is hopefully gone to stay. It's nearly April. It's hard not to think of April as a bleak month anymore, with last year's death and broken engagement/subsequent break-up. But I'm focusing on moving past all that, remaining cognizant of death and grief and change of heart/ change of plans. It's tough. I'd have liked to come a much longer ways since then. But you have to meet life each day where you are. That sounds like bullshit. It probably is. If I don't write every day, I forget the path I'm on. Some days there doesn't seem to feel like a path underneath. But I know there is. There is still a forged path, even if I'm not on it. Some days I don't feel anywhere concrete. Like I'm floating above the ground, not moving forward. But also not regressing backward. I don't know. It feels like a bunch of guff. Maybe that's why abstract photography has always captivated me. Who knows.
Here are some photos I took today, after work, after I walked George. He pulls too hard on his leash to also be holding a camera, so I took a separate snowy walk. I keep reminding myself to buy boots but keep forgetting. And now winter should be over.