I don’t like snow. I don’t like the cold. I feel most comfortable when it is nice and hot and sunny and dry.
But you don’t always get what you want … so, make the best of it.
Germany sees an unusual lot of snow this winter. Well, it resembles the winters of my childhood. This somehow almost feels like an inevitable or logic consequence to me being back, stranded, in my tiny home town. But this time I am not taking my sledge up that hill where we used to slither down whooping. This time I do what I always do when I need to breathe, relax and think: I hike.
Who would have thought that living in a small town gives you quite a lot of freedom during a pandemic? How ironic. But it is great to basically start at your front door. The woods are almost deserted in winter, in particular on a weekday. However, from time to time you get to see some animal tracks. But other than that, you are enclosed by silence, you only hear your breath and your heart pounding as you’re plowing through the freshly fallen snow. It’s exhausting.
Maybe snow isn’t even that bad.