Cross Country Skiing

I am five minutes into my journey and regret wearing my light winter coat. The first half-mile of my trek is straight into a north wind. When I finally reach the woods, my fingers are numb. No part of me is warm. That changes after five minutes in the woods. I no longer am aware of the cold. Instead, I'm lost in the swish, swish of skis, the distant train horn, the occasional bird. Soon, I am sweating in the stillness of the woods. Looking at the deer and rabbit tracks, I realize they too are engulfed in the stillness of the snow. The critters, like me, move at a leisurely pace. As I leave the woods, I again feel the wind, but it is at my back this time and I am warm from skiing. And I have no regrets about my winter dress nor the day.