Saturday evening into Sunday morning we received 3-4 inches of powdery snow, not good for sledding or snow cream but the neighborhood kids found it good enough for snowballs and snowmen after some compaction. It is mostly gone now, but it made for a nice scene on Sunday morning. It was certainly better than the half inch of ice we received the prior Saturday evening. I opted not go anywhere, not that I felt up to going far anyway. By the afternoon, though, with it sunny and with the temperature hovering in the mid-thirties, I took a short walk on some of the paths that wind through the neighborhood. It was a flashback of sorts, hearing the crunch of snow under my boots. It was a much more familiar sound when I was in law school trudging off to the grocery store (or even to class). I cannot say I miss the winters in Boston. The temperatures were okay, but it was so gray for so long.

This particular walk was one of the shortest loops available to me. It was not nearly as long as the several miles I often walk on a Sunday afternoon. I was still feeling the effects of what robbed me of the early part of the week, but it was the first time that I felt well enough to venture forth for the sake of venturing and not for some express purpose like picking up groceries. And while I’m still metaphorically digging out from having missed those days last week, I am mostly recovered now.