One blustery bone-chilling day in January 2000, I was in a park playing on a swing set with a guy I was dating. We were both in our early 20s and for some reason I can't recall, we found ourselves at this park down the street from his parents’ house. I liked this guy a lot but we had little in common so sometimes conversations weren't easy flowing. However, on this day he said something that stuck with me.

There we were, bundled in our winter coats and hats, swinging side by side and laughing. Seriously, it is my fondest memory of our brief courtship. Anyway, I'll get to the point and tell you what he said. He said, “There is no such thing as bad weather, only bad attitudes.” I found it funny coming from someone who didn't work outside like I did, but I appreciated his good attitude.

So over the years while I would be working in the elements his words would come to mind. One day, I decided to look up that quote to see if he was merely repeating someone else’s sentiment. Well, I didn't find those exact words but I did find this quote by UK native, avid hiker, and guidebook author Alfred Wainwright from Northern England, “There's no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothing.” Now those are wise words and ones that hold a lot of weight this time of year.

Mr. Wainwright’s words have been guiding me through January. I haven't just been working outside but I have also been socializing. Along with writing daily haikus inspired by what I see, I promised myself that this year I would meet new people and do more of the things I love. Well, it just so happens that I fulfilled both of those promises by joining a local all-female hiking group organized by a woman named Mia, someone I have so much more in common than just a love of the great outdoors.
The first hike of the year was canceled due to scheduling conflicts so I anxiously awaited the second.

To my delight, Mia asked if anyone was interested in snowshoeing. Nearly a foot of snow had fallen over the weekend so the conditions were perfect for it. I immediately responded to the group chat with an enthusiastic yes. Well, it seemed that only the two of us thought venturing out into the cold and snow was a good idea. The group’s dozens of other members are more fair-weather hikers. Mia asked if I would be interested in going with just her so we agreed to meet on January 9th at Moonbeams, the nature sanctuary near my house. By this point, we had been in communication for a week and had taken the time to get to learn about each other. I did not doubt that the two of us would enjoy ourselves and have plenty to talk about during our slow walk through the snow-covered fields and woods.

The morning of the ninth I was giddy with anticipation. I hurried through all my morning chores, exhausted Ripley (the Belgian Malinois pup), and got all my snowshoeing gear ready. Minutes before we were scheduled to meet, more snow began to fall. I quickly grabbed a pair of snowboarding pants and a jacket so I could stay dry during our adventure. I also grabbed extra insulated gloves for us because as I had learned years ago, “There's no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothing.”

By the time we both arrived, the streets were becoming slippery and the snow was steadily falling. Both of us, women in our 40s, were as excited as children on a snow day. After a brief introduction, we layered up and strapped on our snowshoes, and before we covered the first fifty yards we were chatting like old friends. Over a few hours, we talked about families, children, where we grew up, things that ail us, and things we’ve overcome. It turned out that both of us are the youngest children in Italian families from the same part of New Jersey. That alone gave us plenty to commiserate about, but it gets better. We both have the same connective tissue disorder, Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, and for the first time, we both felt truly seen by a peer because when looking at the two of us we both look incredibly fit and healthy. It was great being with someone who understood that just because we look like nothing is wrong, we live with chronic pain. We also realized that the reason both of us agreed to go out in inclement weather is we both know that one day days like this may not be possible. Life is short and sometimes you just have to make time for activities that bring you joy.

Our walking didn’t just lead to talking. It led us to the Shawangunk Kill. Just picture it. We emerge into a mixed-growth forest with tall pines. The trail brings us down a hill and along the creek bed. Big fluffy flakes are falling, sticking to not only the trees but also our eyelashes and knit hats. Juncos (cute little gray and white songbirds) flitter and hop about beneath the pines. The kill flows over rocks and fallen trees, the snowflakes melting into it upon contact. There we are, new friends, looking up in awe at the magical world we are so fortunate enough to have entered. At that moment, I believed in fairy tales and was transported forty years into the past.

It struck me that forty years ago I came to Moonbeams with my Dad while we were out exploring our new neighborhood. I wrote about that experience five years ago after I came on this same walk with my husband. But this time was different. This time I was sharing the experience with a stranger who under different circumstances or in another dimension might have been a lifelong friend and confidant. This time I was seeing my old familiar haunt with the fresh eyes of someone who had never experienced this magical place during the winter. It was a moment in time that Thoreau himself would feel compelled to write about. After all, what is better than the combination of nature, companionship, and reflection?

Those few hours spent snowshoeing with Mia left me both exhilarated and exhausted. We met as cautious strangers and parted as snow-covered friends. I went home and excitedly told my husband all about it and then my son and then my daughter when she got home from school. I told anyone who would listen because making new friends as an adult is hard but finding one who understands where you come from is a whole other challenge. That is why I jumped at the chance to go on another snowy adventure the following week and once again Mia and I were the only ones up for the challenge.

By the time a week had passed we had exchanged phone numbers and the snow had dwindled to two inches. We decided that snowshoes were not needed and met at the D&H Canal Linear Park in Wurtsboro. It was a very cold sunny day so once again we were layered up and confident we would warm up once we got moving. Neither one of us had ever been there so it would be an adventure for both of us. To say we were pleasantly surprised is an understatement. It was an easy flat hike along the canal and through wetlands. We saw bald eagles and animal tracks. We encountered only one other woman and her beautiful well-behaved black German Shepard on the trail. So for the duration of the walk, it was the two of us once again sharing stories and admiring our surroundings. More than an hour into our hike, Mia asked me if I knew where I was going. I just laughed and said that I was just following the trail. She laughed too because she said she never consulted a map and went on to tell me how the other women in the group are always checking maps for distances and locations. I told her I felt confident that the trail would lead us out near where we entered. It did something even better. It led us to a tiny diner where we decided to stop for coffee and a few moments to warm up and continue sharing. We parted that day as more than new friends. We parted as confidants.

January is now coming to a close. The weather this week will be keeping me at home and I must admit I will miss Mia. It is considered bad weather by most people’s standards. It’s cold, rainy, foggy, icy, and just blah. I’m of course out in it for hours a day because I have animals to tend to, which I don’t mind doing. After all, I have suitable clothing. However, I have no desire to drive anywhere. So, I am staying home and walking my fields with the dogs so they can get some exercise. Plus, it’s nice to have a fire-warmed kitchen to return to after getting wet. And that is where I’m at as I sit and write this. I have one dog on my lap and another lying beside my chair. The rest of the occupants are out and I am taking advantage of the quiet time. So, I better wrap this up while I have the freedom to wonder in peace.

Peace. That’s it! That is what all this wondering is about. We all want freedom from disturbances and we all crave tranquility. That is why I love to be outside in nature regardless of the weather. Maybe you find yours in a bubble bath, a good book, or a hobby. No matter where you find peace, the truth remains that we all need a break from the demands and noise of daily life. If you are fortunate enough to have a person to share that peace with then that’s even better because calming companionship can do wonders for your soul. Throw some laughter into the mix and you will feel like a kid again. I’m appreciating that more and more the older I get.

Thanks for wondering along with me in 2024. I’m hoping this year brings me many opportunities to wonder and share. If you have a topic that you would like me to write about, let me know.