Snow

On Sunday my partner and I went sledding. Neither of us had done this in years. We found a golf course with rolling hills and plopped our butts down on the plastic sled and pushed off. Its amazing how hilariously dangerous it feels as an adult, compared to when you were a fear free child. Sledding offers very little control, which of course is part of the fun of it.  On my first run I hit a small bump and my hat fell down over my eyes. It was thrilling to be flying down the hill with no vision, finally feeling the land flatten out and the sled begin to slow. I couldn’t stop smiling. 

We walked across the golf course, in search of more hills. My partner and I decided to do a run together. As we barreled down the hill with both of our weights propelling the sled faster, all I could hear was his giggle in my ear. We hit a small bump and got some air, both of our hats falling to block our vision. The sled slowed eventually, and both of us leaned to the side and tumbled off. We were giddy. 

As we continued walking around the course I found myself thinking this may be the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Perhaps it was the childlike glee that sledding brings. Perhaps it was simply trudging through the untouched snow, under trees with frosty white branches. Being surrounded by such beauty. Perhaps this is missing from my life in Baltimore I thought. 

A few days later I returned to my boat. The day after my 9 hour drive I had to recalibrate myself to being home.  I had to organize the boat, do laundry, go grocery shopping, and fill up my water tanks. I don’t have a car here so I bike to the grocery store, using the basket to carry things back to the marina. It had snowed in Baltimore, and the docks were still a bit slick, so getting my collapsible bike out was a bit of a challenge but I managed to do so wonderfully uneventfully. Because I’ve grown so used to living on a mooring in Vermont instead of a dock, it still feels like a massive luxury to be able to fill up the water tanks by simply attaching my hose and turning on the water. I had to clear away some snow from the hose spigot and Phoenix’s deck, but soon I had cleared the antifreeze out of the pipes and there was fresh water coming from the faucet.

 

Last night I woke up around 1am and peeked out the porthole above my pillow. There was a light snow coming down and it was just beginning to coat the cap rail. When I awoke this morning there was at least 3 inches of snow covering Phoenix. I stepped onto the dock into fresh powdery snow, perfect for a snowball fight or building a snowman. I felt a rush of joy. It still strikes me every time how few things can elevate my mood like snow can. 

Perhaps there are aspects missing from my life in Baltimore. But I also know there are things this place has for me that others do not. Perhaps in each place I live it’s not about a comparison to the last, but an appreciation of the small beauties, and the snow on my boat is a reminder of that.