walking in the snow | Bertram's Blog

One Day

December 26, 2022 — Pat Bertram

I walked to the grocery store today; it seemed such a treat to be out and about and on my feet. Compared to last week, the temperatures were positively summery — high thirties! Since the snow that’s been hanging around for the past couple of weeks is beginning to melt, I wore my thick-soled hiking shoes and used my hiking poles to help me step over puddles, around slush, and across ice. I had been getting a bit of cabin fever — I didn’t want to walk or do much of anything outside when it was so slippery — but yesterday I ended up going out to spend the day with friends. (Although I planned to walk to the get together, one friend picked me up and another dropped me off so I got there and back all in one piece.) It was lovely — delicious meal, good company, pleasant conversation. Even better, I wasn’t the only “stray” there. (When I am the only uncoupled person in a group, it makes it difficult to fit in, not so much because of me, but because couples so often prefer to talk to each other or to other couples. But that wasn’t the case yesterday.)

So, even though I didn’t have cabin fever today, I still went out and walked . . . just to walk. Well, mostly. I did pick my way to the grocery store to purchase a few items. I don’t like having a lot of one-dollar bills in change, so for a total of $16.17, I gave the clerk $26.17. Confused the heck out of the poor girl. After staring at the money for a few seconds, she said, “You gave me too much. It’s only $16.17.” I asked her how much I’d given her, and she said, ‘$26.17.” I said, “Yes, that’s what I wanted to give you. Now put that amount as cash received.” She still looked confused, so I smiled and said, “Just do it. You’ll see. It’s magic.” Her eyes lit up when she saw the cash back she was supposed to give me — $10.00. “Oh, I get it!” she said.

To be honest, I don’t get it — how can they not make such simple calculations? Still, by this time, I’m used to their confusion. What’s most shocking nowadays is when a check-out clerk can actually see what I’m doing.

Oh, well. It is what it is. And anyway, that’s not what I came here to talk about. What I did want to say, I said at the beginning — I walked!

Although I am off work the next couple of days, I might not be able to take another walk. The highs will be in the fifties, so the street gutters will probably be flooded, making it impossible to get around on foot.

Still, one day at a time, right?

And this “one day” was very nice.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One. “Grief: The Inside Story is perfect and that is not hyperbole! It is exactly what folk who are grieving need to read.” –Leesa Healy, RN, GDAS GDAT, Emotional/Mental Health Therapist & Educator.

Posted in life. Tags: making change at the grocery store, uncoupled in a group of couples, walking in the snow, walking in the winter. 2 Comments »

By the Light of the Moon

October 19, 2013 — Pat Bertram

Last night I went walking by the light of the moon. I was in a group, and we strode on a trail beside a riverbed, so we didn’t have to deal with traffic, which is just as well. Even with the full moon, we would have been invisible to drivers. (I couldn’t see the couple who walked in front of my car as I drove to the rendezvous until I was almost on them. Good thing they were aware of me, though it wasn’t bright of them to be so careless.)

I don’t remember ever taking a moonlit walk before. When I was a young adult, before I got my car (the same one I have now, incidentally) I walked to work, and I often had to hike home alone in the dark. I suppose during many of those city nights there had been a visible moon, but streetlights brought the sky in close, so something as far away as the moon would not have been as impressive or as memorable as the moon last night.

I do remember one particular night walk — it had to have been almost twenty-five years ago when my now deceased life mate/soul mate was still strong and healthy and up for adventure. We were living in a small town. Snow had fallen, and no one was about. No cars were on the road. All was still. Not even a hint of a breeze. We could hear the crunch of pristine snow beneath our feet, and the almost cathedral-like silence. It was bright — we weren’t walking in pitch black — but I don’t know if the light came from a moon or from ambient light reflected off the snow. We only walked a few blocks to a small town square. We stood there for a few minutes, enjoying the magical night, and then we headed back.

I don’t recall any other night walks. We spent the last couple of decades in ranching country, and an irrigation ditch ran in front of the house. Stagnant water. Mosquitoes. Need I say more? Well, maybe I do. I’m sensitive to mosquito venom — the bites always make me sick — so as much as possible I stayed inside when evening came. Besides, I didn’t much like the thought of meeting a coyote or a fox (or even an angry dog) on that empty country road.

So last night was a treat. A cool, clear, autumn evening with a hint of a breeze. A few stars. And a moon so bright in the huge empty sky, it cast our shadows on the pathway.

A walk worth remembering. A walk worth writing about.

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Pat Bertram is the author of the suspense novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+. Like Pat on Facebook.