I am not of the religious persuasion, but I am very rooted in tradition. Traditions both societal and familial are often very important to me, which is part of the magic of Christmastime. This year I feel more alone than ever before; in recent years I spent time with FF and his family, before that I spent time with close friends who were also away from home for the holidays, and before that I lived with my parents. This year it's just me, so yesterday I went in search of one of the traditions that I've come to hold dear over the years.
At Second Home Nature Center, I assessed the melting snow and elected to leave my snowshoes in the car (a decision I would regret soon). I ignored the "closed to walking" sign as I headed down one of the trails, but I was very careful to not step on the ski tracks. I still felt guilty though like someone was going to come along and yell at me! Second Home sets the ski tracks so I could easily walk in the tire tracks along the side where the snow had been fairly well beaten down by the tractor wheels. On my return trip I gave into my guilt and switched over to the snowshoe trail, which had not been so trampled and was therefore like walking in sand at the beach. What a workout!
But the goal of my hike was right where I'd known it would be, nestled beneath the stilted roots of a birch tree.