Every New Year’s Day, I try to get out for a walk. Partly it’s to mark the changing of the calendar, partly to reflect on the year past, and partly just to start the year right with some exercise in hopes of setting a pattern for the year.
And this year, what with things like pandemics, wars, floods, fires, hurricanes, and earthquakes, it seemed an especially appropriate thing to do, there being much to reflect upon. And yet, when I was actually out walking, I didn’t want to think about all those things.
Instead, I kept noticing little signs of hope, little reminders that slowly but surely things will get better, spring will return and with it warm skies. I walked past the swimming pool in nearly Eglinton Park and thought about sunshine to come.
I walked past the hill in the park and heard the shouts and screams of happy kids sledding and sliding down the hill, along with the rumble of a tractor resurfacing the ice on the outdoor rink.
There was just enough snow to stick to the trees, and it was still fresh enough in most places that it had that innocent sense of fun, and here and there I noticed little decorations that people had hung in the trees.
There are going to be dark days ahead, to be sure. But I wasn’t thinking about those days. I was just happy to be out for a walk.
Happy New Year.