Winter Peak

I’ve been in my head a whole lot lately.  Not anxious or depressed.  Consumed with personal projects that I am very excited about.  Inspired.  And a bit overwhelmed all at the same time.  I really need this Sunday solo ride.  Perfectly clear morning.  Intense deep blue skies.  The brightest of suns making the snow sparkle like stars on a clear night.  The crisp cold air, so very thin, highlighting every single thing around me.  Impossible to ignore.  Almost as if I’m watching a revolutionary 3D production.  A few inches of fresh snow yesterday, just enough to cover the trail, creating ideal fat bike conditions.  Climactic even.  As far as Canadian winter days go, it doesn’t get any better than this.  Pedaling into this silence, I feel the intoxicated voices in my head slowly calm down.  Not really hushed.  Simply lulled to sleep.  Just the sound of my breath and the crunch of my tires on the packed snow.  Riding back along the riverfront trail, I notice a stamped path leading out towards the lake.  I turn into it.  The vastness of the frozen open space calling me.  I can’t resist.  Last night’s snow has covered this man-made rink.  Too much to play hockey on.  The perfect amount to pedal on.  My fat studded tires digging through the light white fluff, biting into the ice below.  Out in the open, I feel so small.  Insignificant.  In a good way.  My being here showing me my place in this world.  I’m but such a tiny part of it.  Trivial.  Unimportant.  Welcoming the boundless spaciousness surrounding me, my mind suddenly becomes speechless.  Nothing left.  My inner void shining under the strengthening sun gently punching me from up above.  I take a deep breath and salute this winter’s peak.