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It may be camouflaged in powdery white snow, but there seems to be a real art to winter walking.
I was greeted with a surprise when I walked out the door on Tuesday morning; my car was up to its wheels in snow and with no snow shovel at my disposal, I decided to walk to the office. Along the way, I saw art all around me – patterns of shoe soles sculpted the snow, the streets were molded with intricate, slushy, textured designs made by tire treads and even the sky was an abstract painting of grays and whites.
There was a symphony of sounds as I walked, including the soft flopping of snow falling off the roofs, the swish of snow and water the cars made as they sped down the roads and the grating sound of shovels plowing snow off sidewalks.
It sometimes feels as though you have to perform an odd dance while walking on ice and snow. You need to jump over smooth puddles of ice, circle around drifts of snow, dodge across streets filled with soft brown sludge, skirt around lumps of melted snow being sprayed from vehicles. I never thought winter urban landscapes were that attractive during the daytime. All the dirt, grime and crust that sticks to cars and splatter on buildings stands out like eyesores.
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