When I was a kid (I still am in many ways), there were days when I woke up with nothing on my mind but getting out there into the middle of nowhere, and taking it all in.... I know, a weird thing perhaps for such a young lad. I'd never tell my parents, I would simply eat breakfast and quietly put on my snowsuit, boots, gloves, hat and head out. Let me be clear, I lived in a safe neighborhood where the kids played all day on the street, so just leaving the house without notifying the elders was a common occurrence, and of no consequence. However instead of joining my buddies in some morning game of stickball or hockey, I would turn the other way towards a small forest found on the train tracks next to my house.

The first thing I always noticed upon entering the forest, was how the snow went from crunching under my feet, to being at least knee-high, if not to my waist... I found this fascinating how in one spot all was urbanized and easy, and on another I was practically stopped cold, unable to move forward. Are all the forests like this? How much snow has really fallen so far...?

It always scared me, even though I could take a simple step backwards and be back on terra firma, but weirdly, the idea of giving up scared me more than moving forward. Sure, I could forget this ridiculous adventure, head back home and have a nice cup of cocoa, or play with my friends like every other day, but such a thought never crossed my mind. Instead I looked into the forest, more interested in the unknown that was about to unfold before me, enthralled that today, things would be at least different. It was scary as shit, but, I liked it.

Another step, and another, and quickly the real world would disappear behind me... I know, because every once in awhile I would turn around, and slowly watch the world slip away until finally it was gone in the majestic columns of frozen wood, until, everything was the same. I knew in the other seasons this forest was full of surprises, but it was winter and the uniformity of it all is what fascinated me. How could a place full of chaos and randomness in the other seasons become so boring? But I wasn't bored, far from it, my heartbeat racing, my body overheating from trudging through the snow, my senses in superpower mode trying to detect but a slight registration of anything. I was truly alone, letting my mind and senses overtake me... a creak of a tree there, a branch falling way over there, a slight whisper of wind, snow bouncing along an icy surface- yes, even that made the slightest of sounds.

Everything seemed gone or dead, abandoned for a better place, a warmer clime, while everything that was left behind was condemned to an icy existence... with only myself there to appreciate the isolation and desolation of it all. It was a lie of course... a small bird foraging in a slush pit, a paw print of an unknown animal scurrying into the distance, and yes, sometimes unbelievably, another human footstep! Who was this person? Why were they here? What could they possibly find here??? It took me a long time to figure out, at least on a philosophical level, what that person was doing there... they were walking in the wilderness like myself, questioning, wondering, thinking, sensing, taking it all in... doing nothing, yet doing everything.

I would keep trekking, eventually the forest would end and I would be brought back to a railroad track or a road or a house... so disappointing in its symbols of safety and order. Looking back at the forest, I knew I was never really alone though it had seemed that way. There was still life in there, and, I was there, walking with it, in it. Someone would find my footprint one day, and wonder why I was there, deep in the woods, enjoying the snowy wilderness.