I needed to get out and do something active yesterday, because I was in danger of spending the weekend just sitting around the house, which is one of the easiest ways to set myself up for a recurrence of my depression. Getting outside and taking a long walk around the village is one of the best ways I’ve found to push back against depression. I keep a brisk pace, enough so that by the time I finish the walk I’ve gotten my heart rate up a bit. However, yesterday I saw all of these geese on the lake and so I stopped to watch and listen to them for a moment. It was, as you can see, a gray day and quiet in town, other than the geese. The sound of occasional honking from the geese and their splashing bounced off of the thin layer of ice that so far only extends a few hundred feet from the north end of the lake, and reached me in the park. I stopped the podcast I was listening to and just took it in. The geese, the wind and the cold air on my face. It was a small, beautiful moment that made me glad I left the house.
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