Winter Mindfulness at Arrowhead Provincial Park

Ninja-like I was not: the waxless cross-country skis I rented from the park office hummed along as I gained steam down the hill. Combined with the mindless nattering of my inner dialogue, I couldn’t hear anything else.  When I reached the crest of the next hill I stopped and listened. A light breeze whispered through evergreens. A downy woodpecker knocked insistently. Saturday morning traffic droned on Highway 11. My friends’ laughter carried back to me, urging me to catch up.

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