Winter Whimsy

Monday night, I went for a walk. It was about seven o’clock. I had been sat on my ass all day, and I was restless. Restlessness dogs me; there are things I should be doing to ease it, but I prefer to distract myself until the feeling overwhelms me. So, about seven, I decided that I should go for a walk.

I couldn’t find my flashlight. There was no moon, or if there was, it was buried underneath clouds, and walking on country roads after dark seemed a bit daft. So, I decided that I would walk where I could find streetlights. It wasn’t actually that cold—the clouds provide some insulation, and sleet was falling—so it was probably close to freezing. It can be brutal to walk outside at other times—my lungs burn with the exertion of inhaling frigid air, but if I wear a scarf, the condensation from my breath creates a soggy covering that often leaves my face chapped.
I had on fleece pants, two layers of fleece sweatshirts, a down vest—bright yellow so as to be seen—and a hat and gloves. I also brought along my iPod, and armed with a passel of tunes, I set off into the night.

The town I live in isn’t actually a town. It’s a village. It’s one of the peculiarities of this part of the country. Around here, there are towns, cities, villages, and hamlets. After all these years of living here, I still haven’t figured out what constitutes what, but I officially live in a village. It sounds positively medieval, and in a way, it is. I know things about the people who live here, even though I haven’t met many of them. Gossip floats through here like gossamer. I’m pretty sure I know who the village idiot is: it’s the woman who owns another of the local restaurants. I heard the other night that she’s been charged with assault by one of her employees—bugger the fact that she’s married to the mayor. The employee apparently bypassed the local police chief and reported the crime to the county sheriff.

So, last night, I set out to walk the lit streets of the village. The streetlights illuminated the fine mixture of rain and snow that was falling sideways, and the sleet on my face refreshed me. I soon discovered that I had on too many layers. The village sits in a valley, which means that once I left Main Street (yes, the main street that runs through the village is called “Main Street,

Bookmark/Search this post with:

| | | | |