A Walk Back in Time
A mild winter evening in Montreal. It is still hovering around zero and a very fine, wet, snow is gently falling from the sky. The clouds are low and reflect the glowing street lights. In its forefront the trees are silhouetted. At my feet the street is wet and slushy. There are no cars rolling are people walking. If not for the distant hum of cars on the autoroute and my own two fleet squishing the slush it would be silent. Once home I open the door and make my way to bed quietly trying to avoid waking my wife and children.
I am making my way home after having a couple of pints at a local bar with a new friend. Russia was crushed by Canada in the quarter finals of the Olympics and Canada won gold and silver in the women's two-person bobsleigh. Good conversation about life, work, family and sport.
On the walk home I am feeling like I am twenty-five years younger, in high school again, walking home, late in the evening on a winter's day, a couple of pints in me after a night of fun with friends. The streets are quiet and I am bundled against the cool air. As quietly as possible I make my way to my bedroom hoping my parents will not be awoken.
It had been awhile since the scene had been recreated.
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