The other day I stepped outside with my coffee as I do most mornings, no matter the season, and breathed in the fresh January air. The lake had frozen over and was covered with a vast white blanket of calm, glistening snow that stretched out and winked at me as its crystals caught the morning sun. It waited patiently for me as I cautiously stepped down onto its frozen surface; trepidatious of the unlikely chance that I might fall through. As I stood firmly with both feet on the lake, I noticed my fear transform into a feeling of joy that wasn’t there moments earlier. I felt simultaneously like the participant and the observer breathing in the fresh air as the lake, like a blank canvas, offered me an invitation to create. I brushed some snow away with my foot and was delighted to find that just under the snow was a pristine patch of smooth ice. I could see right through the ice to a rock that lay beneath and felt my heart start to race just a l...
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