Crossing Paths

Just as the sun came up, the snow stopped, and the wind moved on. It was so bitterly cold, though, the only hope of staying warm was to just keep moving - quickly. I wanted to check the fence line for any trees that might have come down in the storm, and I was indeed making great time. When I crossed the stream, though, a series of tracks caught my eye. Pleased to see that I wasn’t the only one out doing chores in the freezing cold, I paused for a while to look at the storyboard recorded in the snow.

A mouse, taking advantage of the lull in the storm, had emerged from its burrow under a fallen tree and traveled to the edge of the stream to get a drink.

Soon afterwards, a crow landed, its wings leaving a distinctive impression in the snow, and brushing away some of the tracks the mouse had left behind.

A fox, clearly on its way to somewhere important (or hoping, at least, to avoid running into me) also trotted purposefully through.

My own journey left a trail as well. My footsteps could be tracked moving quickly along the fence line and crossing the stream, pausing just long enough to read the story in the snow.

Soon enough, the winds picked up again and erased every trace of us all. A mouse, a fox, a crow – and me.