Walking home on New Years morning in -21 C with a southeast wind gusting to 39 km/h has its perks. Perk, rather. Singular.
I paused several times on my 2.3 kilometer walk to look at the moon despite the -32 C windchill.
A young woman at the vivacious house party I attended last night remarked that what you do on NYE defines the upcoming year. Ten per cent of me wishes that to be true.
Walking under a full moon on a clear night followed by being surrounded by delicious food and boozy friends and strangers enjoying themselves has a certain appeal.
Waking up in a friend's bed pantless wearing his shirt while he was with his family on the other side of the country does not.
Top that off with the realization that the trio of water glasses I futilely set down beside my single occupant bed were now only a usable duo thanks to my aggressive water consumption.
Since I sleep poorly after a night of excessive adult beverages, I left early. Early enough to watch the moon set.
I am unusually mindful of the moon's celestial journey and on New Years morning as I plodded home mildly hungover and bundled in my snowpants and scarves, it served to remind me of what my year will be.
I will frequently pause and take time to enjoy Creation as I travel to Bimini Island, counsel conifers to free growing status in northern B.C. and journey through Canada with some girlfriends.
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