A Christmas Day Walk: Sounds of Winter… (Wednesday Writing Essential)
My favorite holiday for walking, not a soul in sight, only birds, squirrels and the usual wildlife moving about the dry frosty acreages. Tis Christmas, third day into the onset of winter, my Beagles and I are off for a walk. We head out through the fifty-five acre park, just across the street from our condo. A wind of 3 miles per, noticeably only in the tops of trees, we take short notice as we walk, briskly and inquisitively, on the path which winds adjacent the wetlands. Suddenly, I notice a change in the winds, and then the Beagles take note, one quick gust then another, chilling yet, pleasing to me, in a very seasonal way.
Many trees are bare and stark, they groan and moan, creak and squeak, as we pass. The Oaks still holding to their leaves, rustling gently, were rendering that unmistakable crisp crinkling sound, reminiscent of Easter cellophane being crushed by eager young hands. No longer can I clearly, distinctly hear the tap, tip, tap, tip and tap again of Beagles’ toes on cold frosty pavement, Nature has covered sounds of we three passing, with her own sweet seasonal choirs.