We live 6 houses away from a walking trail. When we bought our house, we didn’t know the trail was there, but it quickly became one of my favorite things about living where we do. The trail is a few kilometers long, and extends to a large open field before the highway.
Over the years, that trail and field have become special to me.
In that trail…
… I’ve held my husband’s hand before it had a wedding band on it. We talked about our dreams and aspirations underneath a sky of northern lights . We said how many kids we wanted and argued about their potential names. We spoke of the places we’d like to travel to, and the renovations we wanted to complete.
… We taught Una how to “heel” as a puppy. We yelled and ran after her when she chased a coyote through the snow.
… I walked through the early stages of my labor with Penelope. I walked with Oliver in my womb, and in my arms as he met snow for the first time.
The trail becomes a metaphor of the passing of time. Each new season, the experience of our walks change, we grow, and we create memories.
This season, I carry Oliver on my chest, I hold my husband’s hand, and we watch Penelope run in front of us with Una. In another season, Oliver will be walking alongside his sister, but in the end… it’s still just us, on a trail, creating memories, one season at a time.
Happy New Month xo