It is snowing as I write this. Snow is something that doesn’t happen often in Central Louisiana. We marvel at its beauty and it touches our senses in a way that we aren’t accustomed to. This morning, I bundled up and—camera in hand—headed out for a walk with the dog. The first sense that was touched was sight—it was beautiful. Everything was blanketed in a coat of white that looked so soft and comforting. The next sense was sound—there was none. There was no traffic on the icy streets, no delivery trucks on their routes, only the occasionally chirp of a very hearty bird could be heard. Even though we have walked the trail many, many times, today there is a feeling of newness, almost like a blank page.
As the dog and I walked further, our footprints left tracks in the snow, the blanket was no longer smooth in places. But there was such an expanse of unexplored, undisturbed snow that I couldn’t help but continue on and to be in awe of Mother Nature’s beauty. As we walked back to the house, I again noticed our footprints from when we had passed that way before. It made me reflect on life and how it parallels our walk through the snow. We all start off with an undisturbed coat of white that reaches as far as the eye can see—no limits and no boundaries. As we travel through our lives, we leave footprints pointing towards our destination. Sometimes our footprints are unsure as if we are traveling lightly for we have ventured into unknown, unexplored territory. Sometimes our footprints lead us to mistakes and failure, but if we learn from those mistakes, our footprints have not been left in vain. Sometimes our footprints form a circle representing a sort of comfort zone, as the terrain we have trod is familiar to us. But in the silence of the snow covered land, sometimes our path is made crystal clear and our footprints become strong and true. And the only time we look back is to reflect on our journey, the events that happened on that journey, and how much we have grown as a result of our travels.