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WALKING IN THE SNOW (2011)
I walked along the promenade, my new hat with its furry flaps keeping my chin warm though my cheeks were harsh in the cold air.
The sea was almost lapping the concrete boulevard; each wave washed away another bit of snow from the beach remaining. The sea was grey, as was the sky. The land was white, the ships stood out as patches of colour in the Firth.
Passers by kept on nodding hello to me; a friendly smile and a comment wreathed in steamy breath.
The snow had turned to ice on the path but with my gloves and hat and coat I felt warm.
My mind was buzzing. That white tangle of conjecture; slick sheets of hatred, woozy oozes of paranoia. Resentments building clouds over my heart, worries excavating the pit of my stomach.
As my mind built its layers, I watched myself; found myself commenting on the lack of justification for my angry dialogue. But no sooner had I demolished one tread of upset than another shrilled in a space besides my heart. It clouded my eyes until I no longer saw the sea around me.
My excursion vanished in floods of unfounded surmise that poisoned my breath; made my muscles jangle under my skin.
I walked into town, stomped into the supermarket and bought a paper.
Later, as I lay it aside and looked out on the black night, I welcomed my friends into my life again.
I thought of taking a bath, noticed the tight tension in my throat and grimaced at yesterday's walk when I talked to myself about how emotion only has the value we want to give to it.
(Photo: Above Helensburgh December 2020 – you can’t see the snow and ice but I promise you it was very cold and sleety!!)
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