paths

we had just enough snow to garner a couple of extra days off, just enough to walk in. on my country loop, a desire seized me to traipse in the clean patches and leave tracks.

knowing they would melt, knowing they would not last, nonetheless i was compelled. i also found myself putting a boot into human tracks gone before me, siding up the person's height by their relative shoe size. were they walking? running? i wondered in sherlockian terms.

back in and cozy, i  began reading robert macfarlane's tome, "the old ways: a journey on foot", ironically starting out by saying how we all, human and animal alike, are prone to track-leaving in the snow.

last night i read further about the symbolism and necessity of paths in history. naturally, i set out to see what i could for myself. happening to be house-sitting near enough to walk to work, i did just that.

taking the soft, mossy way whenever possible i payed attention to the massive sequoia trees swaying in the wind and rain, wondering about the landscape and paths of native americans i might be traversing.

on the way home, i found a different route, which led me on a wooded path next to a puddle-turned stream favored by a pair of ducks.

you see, we are exploring whenever we don't know exactly where the road may lead.  the advent of pavement doesn't negate creatures making their own trails, useful ruts worn by repetition, always moving forward.

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