It’s wonderful what the sunshine does for a cold day. Without it, I don’t know I’d withstand the winter, and it’s not like I live in Iceland. Southeastern PA winters typically have a few very cold weeks, some big snowstorms (which I actually welcome for the stay-inside coziness) and more likely, freezing rain which is awful for everyone. Today, though, bright sunshine streamed through my window as I meditated.
This afternoon, I’ll take a walk in the sun, bundled up in my puffy jacket, hat and gloves. Our neighborhood has a walking trail that runs along the Neshaminy Creek. I’ve seen a great blue heron there, and two red foxes. The water flows faster when there’s been a storm, and sometimes it rises so high it overflows its banks and the trail is full of mud. Not today, though. I’ll walk down Birdie Lane past townhouses to where the trail goes downhill and over a small wooden bridge that was just replaced this fall, the wood still fresh and unpainted. A young family took their group picture there at Christmastime, the little girls in pretty clothes.
Past the bridge, I’ll continue to a bench where I’ve seen a young man sitting beside the creek. It’s a quiet, beautiful spot, if you can ignore the sounds of traffic on the road behind it. The tall trees make the path feel secluded. I know there are white birches, and lots of vines and weeds, but the names of the other trees escape me. Some are quite tall, which tells me they are old, here when the area was a golf course over 30 years ago.
Past the bench and trees, the trail comes out to another bridge across a small branch of the creek. On a map, the Neshaminy looks the veins of the human body branching out in all directions. Last summer I saw kayakers here but usually the water is too shallow. Kids fish there with their dads, and sometimes teenaged boys fish alone.
After the second bridge, the trail climbs closer to the road and it’s on this stretch that I have to raise the volume on my phone if I’m listening to a podcast. The hill takes my breath away. Sometimes I walk backwards, to give my thighs a break. At the top, I could go straight to the shopping center, but I don’t. I haven’t since the Starbucks closed. My neighbors Flossie and Bob are still upset about that.
I turn right into Eagle Lane, which is still part of my townhouse complex. At the top of the cul de sac, an old man sits in his garage on a folding chair, and when I pass, says “Hiya, hon,” and sometimes remarks on the weather. When Steve walks with me the old guy doesn’t call me “hon.” It irked me at first, but now I just let it go. I just want to keep walking. Past the house with the sports car with the Mr. GRITS vanity plate. Past the ones with the beautifully maintained perennial beds, lying dormant in January. Back on the trail, downhill toward home.
Do you have a favorite walking trail? What or whom do you see there?
Linda C. Wisniewski 
11 responses to “A Walk In the Wintertime”
What a lovely post, Linda. I too like the coziness of a snowy day but also like you enjoy the sun on a day like today.
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Thanks, Jennifer! Glad you could relate!
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Thanks to you & a few other hiking friends, I’m able to see & enjoy what you see & write about. I really enjoy your chatty, conversational style in this piece! It read to me as if you were trying to catch your breath in short bursts, while fighting the wind.
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Great insight, Cindy! Thanks for letting me know how this affected you.
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Hi Linda,
I enjoyed walking with you in this very descriptive post.
My favorite walking paths are in Green Lane Park. I usually choose the trail that goes along the Perkiomen Creek because the sun sparkling on the water makes me smile.
Today it’s sharply cold. I see ice floes scattered between clusters of geese and ducks on the creek and when I get to the lake I notice that it’s completely frozen. None of the usual fishermen, just signs that say “Ice Fishing Closed” and “Keep Off the Ice”. But there are plenty of walkers, dog-walkers, joggers, and cyclists on the trails braving the temperatures, everyone bundled and layered, even the dogs.
I see that a small ice skating rink has been made in the low ground where the volleyball net used to be. A father and his two young children weave around the ice hockey players.
The park and it’s visitors have adapted to winter.
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Oh, this is a lovely piece of writing, Marie! I have yet to see a frozen lake this winter. Happy trails to you and thanks for stopping by.
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Great post, Linda! Your descriptions and comments were so enjoyable. I particularly liked your “Hiya, hon” neighbor. “Hiya” is an old Philadelphia greeting. My Uncle John used to greet every niece and nephew with “Hiya hon!” Thanks for helping me think of him today. Thanks, too, for encouraging me (indirectly) to write more descriptively. I needed that.
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Hi, Pat! Thanks for telling me about the old Philadelphia greeting. I will cut this guy some slack. 😉 Glad it brought memories of your Uncle John.
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Just picked up your book Where the Stork Flies at the Next Chapter bookstore in Sellersville. I don’t want to put it down. Love all the references to the area. Very nicely written.
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Thanks, Trish! Appreciate your letting me know!
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Thank you, Trish! It was good to meet you. I’m so happy to know you’re enjoying it!
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