I left my apartment with a determined stride, patches of snow crunching under my rain boots, cigarette in hand. I paused in the road, the place where my hair gets caught in the early morning sunlight, to slowly close my lips around the filter and pull at the deep orange embers. This cold winter morning seemed oddly warm, maybe because the sunlight and sky were saturated hues of yellow and blue--tempting me to hope for spring.

I think I like ice alot more than snow. Snow is pretty and all, but all it really does is slow me down. Ice can be potentially life-threatening, but that's the fun of it. It gives me a nice rush. Walking through the labyrinth today, I had to switch between walking on fresh ground, ice, and snow. Snow and fresh ground are just too predictable though. I never knew when I was stepping on ice, but even if I did it was still interesting to see whether I could keep my balance or slip. At times, it felt like that moment when you're climbing into a bounce house with only socks on. The other great thing about ice is its ability to keep the shape that it was frozen in. Rewalking the path again, I saw a couple of my footprints from the last time I walked through.

When I initially sat down at my spot, I knew I would need my gloves. Because of the freezing temperature, I curled up on the side of the tree that would block me from the chilling wind, instead of taking in the view. I didn’t have any idea of what I wanted to look at or experience, but, as is probably most natural for me as a geologist, I was barely within arm’s reach of the ground before I was already reaching for a rock.

Let's be honest, as much as I wanted to enjoy the labyrinth this evening, I did not.  Okay, I lied. It was an okay walk. All I could focus on was not freezing to death and not slipping on ice. There were some frozen patches of ice on the path to the center of the labyrinth, so it was not exactly the easiest thing to walk on, especially with my 3-inch boots on. Besides that, everything else remained the same. The ground felt the same, the cold was still there, and the tree behind the labyrinth was also there as well. I found myself rushing to the center of the labyrinth, completely ignoring the purpose it served. At least the air smelled nice under my cold breath for a brief second. I guess the chilly wind was not all that bad.

Let's be honest, as much as I wanted to enjoy the labyrinth this evening, I did not.  Okay, I lied. It was an okay walk. All I could focus on was not freezing to death and not slipping on ice. There were some frozen patches of ice on the path to the center of the labyrinth, so it was not exactly the easiest thing to walk on, especially with my 3-inch boots on. Besides that, everything else remained the same. The ground felt the same, the cold was still there, and the tree behind the labyrinth was also there as well. I found myself rushing to the center of the labyrinth, completely ignoring the purpose it served. At least the air smelled nice under my cold breath for a brief second. I guess the chilly wind was not all that bad.

I made the brilliant decision of spending half an hour on the balcony yesterday when it was absolutley frigid outside. I spent the first 10 minutes pondering my inevitable death. Somehow, my mind wandered from snow to the cold, to what might happen if I were to fall asleep on the balcony. After that, it was all downhill. I went straight from thinking about how I was so exhausted I could fall asleep on the spot, to thinking about getting lost and forgotten and it just wasn't a happy time. Then, a group of little children ran by, and for anyone that knows me even remotely well, they know that more than anything at all in this world, I gain extreme happiness from being around children.

My walk down to the tree is more of a challenge than I expect. There's just enough ice and just enough hill that it's hard not to slip. I can feel when the rubber links on the bottoms of my boots grab onto one of the small patches of grass that pokes through the ice. When I sit on the bench it takes a while for my thoughts to focus. My week has been busy I'm not sure of the assignment My fingers are getting cold Why didn't I bring a scarf Was this a stupid spot to pick. I'm not sure how I'm going to turn the things I'm thinking into something cohesive that I can share with other people.

I suppose I can’t help but keep The Lives of Animals in mind as I write this post…

Walking to the site, I inevitably made too much noise. I didn't have the padding of snow to quiet my steps, so the crunch of sneakers on underbrush and synthetic fabric rubbing together must have alerted everything living around me that I was there. I tried to make the short venture quickly to not attract too much attention—from humans or birds or rabbits or whomever else lives near these woods.

As I was approaching my spot, the trees glowed a firey red. Looking back in the direction I had come, the sun danced a peachy glow across the horizon. The ground had hardened making a flaky crunch sound as I moved across it.

Many large trees have fallen northeast of me. Bark has peeled off the thick branches crowding my spot. The woods seem clearer, but less explicit, identifiable.

The leaves shake against each other. The branches seem more luminous, fragile, and towering. They are strong, yet flexible.

The grey snow casts shadows off of different mounds, overshadowing, cross shadowing, until it is difficult to tell what is a shadow and what is not.