In the heart of winter, when snow lies deep and soft, I find myself following the same little network of footpaths again and again. There’s the walk from the house to the bird feeder, where chickadees and nuthatches flit and call, their tiny feet clinging to sunflower seeds. There’s the path to the chicken coop where I go visit my hens a few times a day. Then there’s the longer stretch through the fields, from the garage and around the barn, from my morning walks.
Every day feels like a gentle repetition of the same paths, and somehow it brings a kind of warmth. My son and I bundle up and walk these routes together, and venture as far as his little feet will take him. The cold doesn’t feel sharp when there’s breath and laughter in the air, and when we return home our boots are crusted with snow that sparkles like tiny crystals in the low winter light.
Walking the same snow paths day after day invites a kind of attention that’s both simple and deep. It’s not about going far or seeing new things. It’s about returning to the familiar and letting each detail settle in your awareness. The crunch of snow underfoot, the soft lull of wind through pines, and the quick dart of a bird all become part of how the season feels alive right now. It’s inevitable that the snow will fall again and we’ll remake these paths together.
If today allows, step outside into your own winter’s path, even if it’s just a short walk around your yard or down the street. Notice how the snow changes in colour and texture as light shifts. What sounds do you hear against the quiet of snow? Pay attention to the birds or other animals that share this cold day with you, and consider what it feels like to return to the same outdoor places as the season deepens.
