Winnipeg. It’s a gritty kind of beauty.
Slapping on my layers, heading out for a run on the slippery, packed snow.
A rosy glow illuminates beautiful frost-glazed trees. A stark contrast against the filthy snow and salt piles and random splatters of dog urine.
Warming up. Snow trails. Snot trails. Nobody touch my gloves, ever.
I started to feel good about everything about a mile and a half in. All of a sudden the sheer beauty of the day just hit me. This is such a strange city, full of creative people and unmitigated grace.
Crunching down Wellington trail, admiring the hoarfrost on the trees and checking out the Christmas decorations.
Maybe it’s just holiday nostalgia or some kind of post-wedding love haze, but I felt really good today. I was thinking about this city and how everyone who lives here, belongs here. My family and friends, myself- we all have this offbeat charm and I don’t know if we’re influenced by the city or the city influences us.
Taking a turn down Omand’s Creek, into the park area. Thinking about how even when it’s bad, life is so good.
It may just be exquisiteness of the day, but I just really appreciate everything in my life right now. My family managed to turn what could’ve been a complete clusterfuck of a wedding reception into a raucous good time. My friends can always be counted on to make me laugh openly and often inappropriately. My husband is trustworthy and kind. And then, there’s this place I live.
Running up Wolseley, passing some folks working on their own personal snow-art installation in their yard.
It’s the stuff like this that makes me grin. People just doing their thing. And there seems to be more of that here per capita then anywhere else I’ve been.
I love this city. It’s gritty but it’s also golden.