We have heard sayings similar to “Each day offers a new start” but we seldom feel it is true. Our daily routines make us think otherwise. But a day away from home can make such sayings, no matter how cliched, resound with meaning. Each day will invariably offer new and different sights, new and different encounters. We find ourselves in unfamiliar circumstances and our thoughts and feelings may be unfamiliar too. New doesn’t imply easy or comfortable, on the contrary many people opt not to travel for this very reason, but new is often exciting and an opportunity to grow. And we need not be far from home.

Taking a walk while the snow fell yesterday my thoughts were drawn to Shawn Forry and Justin Lichter. If these names are not familiar to you, I am not surprised. I discovered them by chance in the newspaper. These two men do not seem to have garnered much publicity, but their accomplishment is notable. They are the first to successfully hike the entire Pacific Crest Trail in winter, a total of 2,650 miles; trails and trials of snow. I am in awe of their capabilities and delighted with their success.

During the walk in my neighborhood park I marveled at the beauty, took some photographs, enjoyed watching kids sledding and dogs frolicking in the snow. I was happy to venture outside despite the cold weather and happy to get back home to warm my feet. My outing and that of Forry and Lichter are not to be compared, but it’s nice to know there are many ways to take a walk in the snow.

My dreams, since childhood, are often vivid but not necessarily coherent narratives. Yet, living within them, for that time, seems real.

I recall as a child, when I was clearly old enough to know the distinction between a dream state and being awake, I dreamt of settlers making their way across the country. They were passing through my hometown and our time together created a bond. They were similar to the pioneers I had read about in books or seen in movies; women wore bonnets, men looked like cowboys, and the requisite wagon train filled the scene.

But I awoke before they reached their destination and this concerned me. I wondered how they would travel on. I knew these characters were inhabited in my mind yet I empathized with their fate.

There was only one thing to do. That night I thought of them again and in my dream I insured their safe passage to the end of their journey and mine .

On subways and elsewhere, I hear children lament to their parents, “I’m bored.” seeking some direction. Fortunately, we need not rely upon another to entertain us.

There are phones and gadgets to fill our idle moments, but there is so much more. We have our books, writing and sketch pads, crossword puzzles to name a few. Daydreaming is lovely. Studying a language, learning to knit, reading a poem, listening to the sounds around us, and thinking of places we wish to visit can fill any gaps in our day, while pleasing us too.

Each moment we are free, is an opportunity to partake in an activity we choose. With all the options before us, boredom need never be among them.

My passion for horses started as a young girl.  At twelve I began learning how to ride. As a teenager, I mucked out stalls, and walked racehorses after their morning workouts.

Throughout the various trials and adventures of spending time with these magnificent beasts, there was one incontestable rule. If you get thrown from a horse, you get back up again-immediately.

This leaves no time for fear to sink in.

Over the years, I realize that this lesson has served me well.

But, it has rarely pertained to my time with horses.

When we are children we play make-believe. We bring life to inanimate objects. We pretend we are characters who exist in books, or movies, or cartoon strips, or invent them ourselves. As adults, unless we seek a profession that deems such activities appropriate, acting for example, our desires and acceptance to create a world with play may decline. Many of us seem to forget the simple joy and fun we had.

The other day I visited a local zoo. There was an employee with a cute, monkey puppet perched on her hand. I couldn’t resist engaging with the puppet directly. I asked the “monkey” its name. The woman gave me a look and shot back,”It’s a puppet. It doesn’t have a name.”

I think of  all the cherished “animals” I had as a child who not only had names, but distinct personalities.

I haven’t given up playing.

I hope I never will.

I know a man casually and sometimes we share a moment or two. We often discuss the joys of nature. He is an avid birder and will spend hours walking in the countryside.

Sounds, sights, textures and smells of the natural world can be so entrancing that one may feel completely absorbed into the surroundings.

This man described such a sensation as becoming invisible-disappearing for a time.

During one of those moments he was standing in an open meadow lost in the sweet lilting of songbirds nearby.

Suddenly a deer came rushing toward him and brushed his side.

It was as if he hadn’t been standing there at all.

Beginner’s luck lacks the sense of accomplishment or respect. But, a beginner possesses something precious nonetheless, an outlook unencumbered with past failings or success.

Thus, no pressure. Perhaps this is what aids the beginner best.

It would be nice if we could put aside our past experience at times, and see, feel or do something completely fresh.

Winter can be difficult. We face shorter days and low temperatures. But it is a perfect time to reflect and savor the simpler pleasures in life: talking with friends, reading books, catching up on films, learning something new.

Unless we are enthused or obliged, we may question the value of venturing outside. Putting on our hats, boots, gloves, scarves, sweaters, and coats takes time. But the bare trees yield different views of the sky and a chance for us to see our world anew.

We worry about things. But does worrying prevent anything we do not wish for, from happening? Does worrying make us feel better? Doing all we can to insure our well being, and the well being of others, is wise. But worrying serves no purpose. Things work out, until they don’t. So let us enjoy all the moments we can.