A walk in winter

Not really a story, just writing practice.

It was a cold, crisp morning and I was taking Angel out for a walk. It seemed that neither of us wanted to go today but as I was a dog walker and she was a job, we were both forced to do what was expected of us. I had battled her into the car at her house and battled her out again once parked at the entrance of the forest. Once she was off the lead I started my usual steady pace whilst checking for any messages on my phone. There was a pair of black trainers and a rag on the ground at the edge of the deeper woods. Upon closer inspection, I found it to be a damp green zip up jacket, frozen into its shape. Both the jacket and the trainers seemed worn but still in very good condition, leading to the question of why they had been abandoned. No-one notices the lost glove that falls out of a pocket, or the sock that randomly appears, but a decent pair of trainers and a jacket is not what you'd expect to be left. Angel - it seemed - had similar thoughts to me and growled at the items. We carried on our walk into the depths of the forest, the wide pathways opening the spaces and letting the sunlight beam through the trees. Angel became more playful, leaping up to frosted branches and running in and out of the denser parts of the forest. As I carried along my continuous, straight, well-used path, she ran almost three times my distance, exploring every nook and cranny she could.

Angel looks perfect in every environment, almost as if she had been handcrafted for whatever scene she found herself in. Today, in the winter sun, she was a majestic, flowing entity, her pure white fur was like camouflage to the frosted tips of the trees and the glittering, icy ground. When she ran, she almost flew across the ground, and when she stopped, she was in control, alert. She explored the deeper puddles that had frozen over the surface, a look of surprise flashing across her unknowing face when the ice cracked. Watching her was watching a child experience everything for the first time. You experienced it with her and appreciated the wonders around that you didn’t see before.

The pure white fur turned brown at the feet where it soaked up the mud from the frozen puddles. The beautiful entity returned to its original state of dog.

The wide pathways were to allow for infrequent lorries to travel through the forest, mainly loggers. I spotted a green truck ahead and took hold of Angel's harness to let it through. The truck was old and damaged, probably through years of hauling timber and equipment. The two older men sat in the front could have grown from the truck, living in a symbiotic relationship, the men needing the truck as much as the truck needed them. The first man looked grizzled by his time, a stony face worn down by the winds and rain of the decades he'd experienced. The second man looked just as old but he had a more amicable appearance. He had a mischievous smirk when we caught quickly each other’s eyes passing by, showing that his friendly appearance was a façade. He may have looked innocent or good-natured to another person but to me his eyes told me he would be more of a danger than the stone-faced man if I ever came across them again. I released Angel and started walking again, resisting the temptation to look back.

It was midday now and although it was the middle of winter, the high Sun radiated a warmth across the forest. Stood in an open meadow, I could see the ice retreating into the shadows, whilst the sunlight spilt over, warming up the grass and forcing them out of a frost covered hibernation. Angel danced amongst the dead ferns, as if soaking up every drop of freedom and nature before I took her back. The ownerless trainers and jacket were still there, maybe I’ll learn of the story behind them one day. 

Reviews

[Shelly08]

Description of moments amidst nature is beautiful.

[Andy L]

Nicely written. Even though nothing much is happening on the surface you get the feeling of impending dangers to come and it certainly kept me reading right to the end.