Seeing the snowman standing all alone
In dusk and cold is more than he can bear.
The small boy weeps to hear the wind prepare
A night of gnashings and enormous moan.
His tearful sight can hardly reach to where
The pale-faced figure with bitumen eyes
Returns him such a god-forsaken stare
As outcast Adam gave to Paradise.
The man of snow is, nonetheless, content,
Having no wish to go inside and die.
Still, he is moved to see the youngster cry.
Though frozen water is his element,
He melts enough to drop from one soft eye
A trickle of the purest rain, a tear
For the child at the bright pane surrounded by
Such warmth, such light, such love, and so much fear.
What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness-
Its early on a Sunday morning in Eastern Nebraska. The temperature is below zero and bone-chilling. The moon, still glowing, casts a pale and cold shadow upon the newly fallen snow. The last light of distant stars sparkle brilliantly, dancing as the world is still, and glistening.
I bring my cold hands to heart – centre, my palms pressing actively together to bring warmth and presence, the tips of my numb thumbs pressing into my layered sternum. On a deep inhale, I raise my arms in a gentle sweeping motion, turning my palms outward toward the sparkling sky … Balancing myself before starting off on an aimless ride to nowhere in particular.
Cycling (any outdoor activity) during the long Winter months is purely about finding balance, flow and our true selves. Cycling early on a cold winter morning, encourages me to look mindfully into the furtive places of my mind, from which I can view information from my past, this cold moment - slowly and gracefully.
Be well this weekend and please take care!
If you are patient in a moment of anger, you will escape a hundred days of sorrow-
The last time we tried this little segment we like to call “Sucking the joy out of what you love“. The cyclist of CultFit took to their pitchforks and spades to start an agrarian revolt against us. We were brow beaten to a bloody pulp, by cyclist. We learned a few things that day: Cyclist certainly are a peculiar bunch and are easily stirred up into a frenzy. Skiers on the other hand …
Rest Day … A few minutes waxing the old ski’s, adjusting the bindings and waiting for some snow to fall.
What’s worse: Getting hit by a car? Falling off a ski lift? Or sharing an intimate moment whilst skiing into a tree, at full speed? We have stories about all of these and more, what about you? Rest up today and ENJOY!!!