I closed my eyes and felt the icy winds slapping my face. The winds blew untamed and fierce like a wildfire -rising and turning and engulfing. The chill touched my skin, pierced my flesh and jolted my bones. It numbed my fingers already inside the leather gloves. I slipped my hands into the pockets and turned towards the awaiting path.
The path lay in front of me like a fallen rope with tangled twists and abrupt turns. It surged at places where the climb was steep and calmed at others where there was a retreat. This ebb and flow appeared to cease only when the mist made the vision hazy.
Still, I pushed forward as the winds forced me back. The steps became heavy, the swampy earth made them heavier. My legs sunk knee deep in the white powdery snow. The freshly laid snow crunched and squeaked as it savored my every step. A little snow entered into my boots. It tickled and titillated as it rolled down my dry leg.
The sensation reminded me of the warmer days and the greener paths, the valleys passed and the obstacles cleared, the men met and the souls connected, the memories made and the ones erased -Yes, I have come far, far away from home but I am still miles away from my destination.
Also published on Medium.