About a half-mile from my apartment, there’s a large ball field circumvented by a walking path. A split rail fence separates the recreational space from sprawling farmland.
It’s a favorite destination.
At sunset, long shadows are sent skittering across the grass; waning light blinks through the swaying leaves of juvenile maple trees; the sky above the farm field is painted with pastel hues. The beauty of the space is exceptional; but that’s not why I seek out its familiar path.
Rather, it’s a favorite because of its simplicity.
The ground is level; the route is cyclical and gentle. It’s the perfect place for a long walk and an engaging conversation with a dear friend.
Whenever the world around me starts spinning too fast to handle, I find myself craving this familiar loop. There’s something about the rhythm of footsteps that seems to make everything OK again; there’s something about the warmth of conversation that can soothe a troubled soul.
I found my most recent excursion around this favorite loop with my wife, Brianna, to be particularly special. When we arrived, the field was covered by untouched snow. The sky was cold and overcast. The trees were bare and stoic. But for a few of last year’s stubborn corn stalks, the adjacent farm field was entirely blanketed in white.
Together, we wandered through a world devoid of color — hand in hand — followed by the sound of crunching of snow and periodic explosions of foggy breath. Perhaps because of the wintry conditions, our conversation felt particularly warm and engaging.
During this particularly cold time of the year, it can be tempting to retreat inside and huddle on the couch sipping hot drinks and watching television.
But as always, especially in the cold, nature is the best salve. A familiar path and a walk with a dear friend can lift the spirit in a more profound way than can even the best cup of hot chocolate.