I Wasn’t Trapped

 

A very long time ago, during another bitterly cold winter, I found myself alone in the country.

I couldn’t have been but 12 or 14 years old.

For some reason I decided to take a walk.  I was warm and toasty in the little cabin.  But there was something imploring me to go outside and walk.   I turned off the old black and white Tarzan movie, ate some bread and colby cheese before I got dressed to go out.  I bundled up as best as I could.  Nothing but my nose and my eyes were visible.

The snow was abnormally deep.  The sky grayish white.  The kind of color that if you look into the distance and there is no obstruction you can’t tell where the sky meets the snow covered ground.  The colors were identical.

When I stepped outside it didn’t feel as bitter cold as it was.  I remember being warm, and staying warm, for the entire walk.

I can, to this day, recall the feeling I had when I went outside into that snow world.  I’ve never experienced it since.  I want that world again.  I want it today.  Right now.

The entire world existed in that snowscape.  The sky and the snow met all around me to lock me in it’s world.  I walked.  Though it should have felt like I was exerting extreme effort, it didn’t.  The snow was deep.  Deeper than my boots were tall.   I had to high step every single step.  There were no paths.  There was no ‘easy’ way.

But it felt so easy.

And the air.  It was delicious.

And the trees were sentinels of that world.  Their browns and grays and blacks creating places for the snow to pile up higher than my shoulders in some places as the wind blew the snow against them.

I was alone.

In a world of my own.

And I want that world again.  I want it today.  Right now.

There was nothing else out there.  No animal.  No human.  No worries.  No fears.

Nothing could have moved in that world without me seeing it.

I walked.

And walked.

And walked.

Sometimes I stopped.  Just to stare.  At a world that no one else was a part of.  No one else could break into.  No one else could have.

It was mine.

I had never felt so safe.

The world around me was enclosed, but I wasn’t trapped.  I was free.

There are so many things in life that I can’t recall.

But that walk, I remember vividly.

In detail.

I want that world again.  Today.  Right now.

I would take that walk today.

And share it with others.

61 thoughts on “I Wasn’t Trapped

  1. That world, the picture you paint of it…sounds lovely! It sounds like an endless expanse of security and calm to me…I wish I could see that world too…with your words you paint a very vivid image of it!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. It sounds so beautiful and peaceful, Colleen. From my window I see that world when it is still early morning and the fog covers the ugly. My last walk in that world was taking my dog for his walk on a day when it was so bitterly cold. The snow started by the time we had gone a block away, but he ruled the roost and with his nice, long fur coat he was fine — at first. He walked me several blocks, with the snow getting deeper by the minute, until he finally decided he had bunny hopped his way far enough, at which point he sat down and gave me that look, you know the one, the”mama, I’m too tired to move another inch. When I first picked him up for my walk home he weight a couple of pounds. By the time I trudged thru that deepening snow he weighed almost a thousand pounds, all dead weight! I think he was ever so slightly spoilde!

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  3. From 8th grade through high school, MBC, our suburban tract house backed up to woods that wound all the way to the main road a mile or so away. I often would wander that safe space alone and happy, thinking of nothing or everything. Thanks for reminding me of that simple pleasure.

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  4. You have jostled nearly forgotten memories from the convolutions of my brain. Decades upon decades ago, I grew up in Southeastern Pennsylvania and lived next to a protected area of a county park. Across the country road, high up on a hill was the Boy Scout camp. On our side of the road, also high up on a hill, was a rustic campsite of amazingly lashed together tree trunk walls, tree houses and benches. On many a snowy day, my older sister and I would set out on different paths to the campsite. Alone, but exhilarated by the unblemished magical world and a purpose, I would trudge through the snow and meet her at the campsite. After some time, we would descend on another path together. I, too, want that world again. Today. Right now. Thank-you for sharing your mystical story and lovely art!

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  5. I remember. Sitting by a transistor radio with power outage, waiting to hear the school closings. Armed only with hot cocoa and layers of clothing, heading out in the early am to the fresh snow. No worries of wind chill, frostbite. Returning home, hours later, frozen facial fluids, happy as ever. Thanks for triggering the sweet memory.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. And your words took me on this magical walk with you …today! It was beautiful. It is all so easy too to the child in us …I too sometimes want the ‘easy’ for the child in me, I invite it often …the child sadly has to compete with the adult in me for attention and the experience of Being that way. Stepping high and dreaming high and soaking deep in the beauty around is so easy for that child.

    Liked by 2 people

  7. Oh that picture you paint, when it is just you and all is quiet. No worries, just space. I have missed your posts. Happy new year! I often want to retreat to the world I grew up in, no snow but lots of warm days with endless sunshine. Fruit trees in my garden and one of them big enough to house me, as I sat, reading books, and watching the birds that fluttered in and out of my garden until I had to go in for dinner.

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    • I love both, walking in snow and in sommersunshine. Perhaps I prefer summer, because I get cold very easily….; )
      Walking alone can be a good thing for health. Fresh air, only thing to see and hear is pure and endless nature. This calms my mind and relax my body when I´m stressed or sad. When I´m lucky or in a good mood I often prefer to walk with somebody else, to explore together because I have no need to calm down.

      Liked by 1 person

    • Happy New Year MM. It’s good to see you. 🙂

      Oh I love your visit to your childhood. Books were my forever friends in snow or sun. This walk I wrote about was pretty unique. We have all 4 seasons here, but that walk, that winter, was something I’ve never experienced since.
      I’m glad we can all relate to something so ‘similar’ even if it is different.

      Like

    • I think that may be part of the memory of this BCM. I grew up in a house with 10 people. Alone time, solitude, was very hard to come by. I think any of my alone moments from childhood stick out for that reason alone. The rest just meld into family chaos.

      Liked by 1 person

  8. What a delicious memory, Colleen. I don’t think I have anything that quite compares, but it sounds like an environment I would like to experience! I have never been in snow like you describe, but one of my friends always talks about how much she enjoys the quiet of the snow! That alone appeals to me. 🙂

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