The snow makes it so easy to see the animals (or people) who come and go in the woods. Once a print is left, it cannot be erased. It can be smudged, kicked, trampled, and tossed about until it is unrecognizable, but it cannot be erased. There will still be evidence that someone or something was there, and then there will be evidence that someone or something tried to hide what was there. It will melt eventually, of course, but by then it has already told its secrets.
The snow keeps us all honest. A record is kept of our comings and
goings. If we do not want that record
kept, then we do not come or go. There is
no bargaining with the snow and no sneaking.
The snow says to us, “I saw you there.
I know where you went. I know
what you did.” The snow tells us how
much is happening around us all the time that we do not even know about because
we are so wrapped up in our own worlds.
The snow tells us that there is a lot more to life than just us, if we
would simply pay attention.
The cold is bare. The
cold is honest. The cold is truthful,
and that’s why I like it. What you see is
what you get in the winter. It’s the
summer of which we must beware. The
summer hides the passing of many creatures and people. The summer keeps the secrets and makes
espionage and betrayal possible. The
summer says, “I will conceal your whereabouts.”
Will we still be honest then, knowing that we do not have to?
I will take the starkness of the winter. I can deal with the winter. I can speak to it in its own terms.
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| Once left, a track cannot be erased. |
