I began yesterday’s walk by pulling on a pair of ancient snow boots. These black beauties have fake fur at the top and a stubborn zipper. But once on, they can take me places.

Down the snow-packed driveway, onto the slushy, icy street and finally to a more thoroughly plowed thoroughfare. 

In the woods, trees were groaning and cracking. The snow was heavy, a burden for brittle branches, some of which gave way within earshot. 

But on the street, it was a different story. You could see the trees from a safe distance, could view the whitened trunks, the felted ferns. The boots gave me traction and confidence. Without them, I would have missed the world transformed.