~*~ Walking in a Winter Wonderland~*~

Hopewell, NJ

 

Date: January 22, 2005

 

I was looking off the back porch at the snow falling and felt the need to have some coffee. So I went back inside and removed my fuzzy Orvis slippers in exchange for a pair of Merrill slip-on shoes. My knee is still sore and wobbly from the weekend but the more I move it, the better it feels.

 

I grabbed my jacket, hat and mittens out of the closet and headed out the front door. The clean smell of the air was refreshing. I live in a quaint little town that is something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Unless you live here, there is no reason to be here. As I headed down to the end of my block I took notice of the silence in this sleepy little hideaway in Central Jersey. The sidewalks were dusted with a light layer of snow, already marked by a few others footsteps.

 

At the end of the block I turned left onto the main road through the town. The white lights from the holidays are still strung up on the lampposts and are simply beautiful in the evening snow. I pass by the little museum and art gallery, pausing momentarily in front of the church. It’s the only building that is stark white and lit up all around. Quite a contrast to the little brick library next door. I pass by the Brothers Moon deli and see a couple sitting in the window, jackets flung over their chairs and what appears to be either coffee or cocoa in their hands. I wonder what they are talking about and figure whatever it is; it’s good, because both are smiling intently.

 

I maintain my slow pace (still nursing a sore knee) and take in all that is around me. I love this little town! I love watching the snow falling past the street lights and seeing the occasional car creep down the road. The cemetery is silent tonight, sheltered with a fresh blanket of white powder, giving it an eerie appeal. I can see in the window of the little local market, a customer chatting happily with the clerk. Nobody seems in much of a rush tonight.

 

I make my normal left turn up the sidewalk of Failte, the little Irish coffee house in town. They have the most amazing selection of coffees and teas, as well as incredible food if you are in the mood for a bite to eat. A friend of mine swears by their Belgian waffles with fruit topping, but I have yet to taste them. Usually, my time at Failte is spent curled up on one of their oversized couches with a book, my journal, or listening to the live entertainment that is offered a couple of times a week. The bell over the door jingles as I walk in and shake off the snow from my hat. There’s a young girl writing at one of the tables but other than that, nobody to be found.

 

I order my Kona, exchange small talk with the owner and head back out into the snow speckled night. There is something to be said for a slow walk on a dark, snowy night while sipping a hot cup of coffee. The madness of day to day life disappears and I surrender to the simplicity of the moment. I opt for a slightly different route and meander past the little brick post office, the local volunteer fire department and the EMT building. You would think everyone had skipped town tonight. I pass no one on the ¾ mile trek back to my house. The footsteps on these sidewalks belong to me alone.

 

The snow we are having is light and fluffy with those little crystal-like bits that shine and twinkle in the night. These are the snowfalls that I love, knowing that in the morning the sun will be shining and everything in my little town will be sparkling and gleaming. I took one last look at the winter scene being created in front of me as I made my way back up the steps and into the house.

 

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