Walking through the snow

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It was snowing hard, the way it almost never does anymore, and I decided I needed to go for my walk, heedless of the weather. 

“I probably won’t be gone long!” I texted a friend in California as I headed out the door looking like an Arctic explorer. The snow was coming down fast and sideways. Many businesses were closed, and the streetlights had eerily popped on at midday. 

Once outside, I wondered if this was such a good idea. 

It was impossible to keep the snow out of my eyes. I pulled my fur-trimmed cap down so it nearly hid my eyes. I pulled my face mask up over my nose and navigated through a narrow strip of vision with a fringe of fur on top. 

It was a lot of work. Between 4 to 5 inches of snow had already fallen and only a few people had traversed the sidewalk ahead of me. I found myself tripping and slipping in their tracks.

“I’m going to walk to the next cross street and turn around,” I promised myself. “A short walk is better than no walk at all!”

I kept trudging. 

 

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