Tired & Full of Beans

It was obvious that no one had attempted to walk the trail, what with the amount of snow and the ice that had accumulated on top of it. I parked the car and Silas and I precariously climbed over a small wall of frozen-over snow that separated us from the 6-to-10 Trail in Duncansville. The sun had already set as we began our mindful journey on the trail where each step was an effort of breaking ice only to sink ankle-deep in snow. Each footstep was a hard, gaping mouth. A lifting of the knees. No forward motion, but up and forward, up and forward, the loudest tip-toeing I've ever done, for sure.

But it was beautiful and Silas was happy and it was well-overdue considering we haven't hiked in a while. The best part was picking up slabs of ice and sliding them down the trail, watching Silas struggle to chase them. And the icicles, about as long as I am tall.

I imagined that from afar, we may have sounded quite threatening. Loud, destructive predators on a prowl.

The ice, with each step, scattered across the glaze like spilled marbles with every step.

Freezing rain has been falling all day in Altoona. The sidewalks are accidents and the rain is still pouring.

I admired patches of fog today, but they were always at a distance.

I watched a car struggle in the ice this evening. I thought about all its parts working their work but accomplishing nothing. It reminded me of something I read about yesterday. Something about sums and parts. But I'm not going to talk about that now.

Silas is tired and so am I.

My stomach is full of beans.

Mary Oliver once wrote about being full of beans.

How is it that I am missing her so much?