Walking memories

Winter slapped me in the face this morning. After a weekend of snow predictions that never really materialized, I took last night’s chance of snow with a grain of salt. But this morning, when I finally rolled out of bed at 5 a.m. and peeked out the window, winter surprised me. There it was: SNOW! Not a lot, and it really didn’t cover the grass, but it was there and it was cold.

Tomorrow, the weather guys say, winter will be cutting short its all too brief appearance in Nashville. We’ll be celebrating Valentine’s Day in the mid 50s to 60s. And this congestion I have will probably move right into a full-blown cold, but that really doesn’t matter today.

I had to walk over to the downtown YMCA this morning (I’m attempting to join), and the sharp blast of air that made me pull on my gloves as I exited LifeWay’s front entrance and button up my coat to my chin was a welcome experience. It’s been a long time since I’ve bundled up against the elements and trekked anywhere. It reminded me of all those times in college, when I’d venture out of Mark Twain Hall bundled up within an inch of my life with scarves, hats, gloves, and two layers of pants. Today as I walked in it, I missed Columbia. Not just it’s cold weather and snow and the long walks I had to take in both just to get to class, my car, or wherever it was I needed to be. Somedays, I just miss Columbia–the people I left there, the church that loved me, the friends who challenged me and believed in me. I miss those cold walks in winter, the way snow caresses the tops of the Columns in the Quad, the way Memorial Union looks iced with a dusting of snow. Snow always seems to make everything look so pure and clean, like you’re getting a chance to start over. And maybe–just maybe–I’ve been given that chance today, before it all melts away and my breath forgets to leave its smoky trail in the atmosphere.