On the first day of the new year we bundled ourselves against the cold and walked our usual loop. It is our custom to go outside, no matter the weather, and visit our trail as a ritual start to the new year.
The wind was bitter. Stepping onto the trail we were surprised and perplexed. The recent snow had melted off the path yet the tread-marks of walkers-past remained. It was as if a small group of people stepped in a pan of white paint and, oblivious of their tracks, continued down the trail.
We’ve seen lots of footprints in the snow. Never the reverse, snowprints on dirt.
“This could be our metaphor for the coming year,” I said. “Everything is the opposite of what is natural. Of what is normal.”
She wrinkled her brow. “I no longer know what normal is,” her quip muffled by her scarf. Too true. We are stepping into uncharted territory. Certainly unnatural.
“Shall we?” she asked, offering her gloved hand.
“Yes. Let’s.” There is nothing to be done now, in this new year, in this unnatural circumstance, but hold hands and walk the path.
read Kerri’s blogpost about FOOTPRINTS
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The Direction of Intention 