Winter walk at dusk

My husband had given me skier bibs about 20 years ago. I pulled them out for my walk on the yellow blazed trail in the park.

I used my poles and listened to Elgar's mournful Cello Concerto. 

The snow path was well packed. 

I fell once. 

I rolled, padded with the layers of clothes.

I met two people. 

The first might have been a teacher walking briskly home from school.

The other was the strange old man with long string hair whom I had seen before.

He had a plastic bucket and appeared to be feeding the squirrels.

I joyfully marched home to Haydn's Trumpet Concerto.

Can you see the hint of a setting sun?