I wonder if it's coincidence or perception, but the most magical moments always seem to take place when there's no concrete way to capture them. I've done a lot of walking and running lately, training for the Paris Half-Marathon in March and trying, at the same time, to clear my mind of recent anxieties. Yesterday I decided to take advantage of the recent snowfall to click some more pictures of my favourite long (12km) trail, thinking they'd be stunning. But the sky was gray, which rendered the scenery rather bleak.
Today, after a full day of cleaning house I jetted out for a quick walk on a nearby trail just to breathe some air, and was greeted by the most magnificent sights: tiny icicles hanging like prisms from tree branches, spikes of hoarfrost making ice-flowers on stems, a fluffy red fox, crunchy white snow, a cloudless blue sky illuminated by hazy sun. As I walked I tried to notice everything - the birds, the smells, sounds, the feeling of cold on my cheeks.
I try to file moments like that in my memory in the hopes that they'll come back to me unexpectedly some day and I can remember the sheer joy I experienced. Chances are I'll be in some other country doing something completely random when this clip comes back to me...the way memories about Mali occur in the middle of a jog through the village. I'm looking forward to the day I remember this walk in the fields, but sadly have nothing more to share than my description above.
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