There is something flavourful about walking along a sandy road in the winter. The chill of rough air saturating all the senses. Winter is like that. It feels like the closest thing to death while simultaneously waking every nerve and sinew that can still feel after some time in the cold. The icy air has a type of 'no holds barred' thing going on when it comes to this flesh. 'Air being sharper than a knife', is quite an adept simile' here. It makes for a good understanding, that this body is alive, at all times. There is no mistaking life for death here or the opposite way said.
Besides the inevitable truth of having no choice but to face through winter for us average everyday people. This walk does exactly what it was chosen to do! To feel alive, and as strange as that may be for some to assimilate towards, it is the chance to take life as it comes and to have times or moments that carry you, when the days come that feeling alive is just a curse and that heavy hand of desperation is overwhelming and all too often, subjective as hell.
That place between the mind and the heart and the external environment which is not dissimilar to the ocean, continuously changing patterns and winds. Sometimes over bearing and hard to tread.