 We had rain, then freezing rain, then a very cold snap. Goes with the territory around here. I don’t know how I survived winter before I had microspikes. I guess was I younger and more agile, and less worried about crashing to the ground and breaking bones. Ever since I got these beauties from Jonathan one Christmas, I feel like I have magic powers when I venture over icy ground. Instead of wobbling, slipping, sliding, catching myself, walking like an old lady on a tightrope with arms splayed wide – I stride ahead assertively in a straight line, not a care for the terrain beneath my chain-mailed feet. I am invincible. I love my microspikes. I wrote a poem a few years ago called “Crampons, A New Contemplation.” It’s too long to reprint here, but check it out on the new poetry page on my website. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 140: 145 words, TOTAL = 22,824; 37,176 remaining |
AuthorRobin Clifford Wood is a writer and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband and dogs, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her grown children and their multi-species families. Archives
March 2021
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