Footprints in the Snow . . .
by Tilia Giron, RScP
I’ve come to love these frigid bleak snow-filled days n nights after all
And find them truly deeply warm and special.
They bring me to treasure
The warmth of the indoors
Family and home
As we closet ourselves inside, lit fires and pets nearby.
Mindful of my blessings.
Although snugly nested against the cold,
A nod from Spirit reminds me I enjoy
The feel of the cold
Refreshing on my cheeks
When we walk the dog
Or feed/water the birds
Or bring in the mail -if/when it comes on these snow- and ice-packed country-type roads.
I hear Spirit, “Any situation is what you make of it.”
I think, perhaps this cold is harsh even for those accustomed to living outdoors.
Low single digit temperatures at night
Unrelenting surfaces slick and stark night and day.
Forbidden I know – to feed the 9- member deer family out back – buck, females n babies.
Frolicking some, Injured some, limping, hobbling yet
Foraging in the frozen still-falling snow for bits of grass n brush
To fill their sunken bellies even as day retreats and night settles in.
Apples – round n golden, large and fresh- fill out their diets.
Within moments, only hoofprints remain.
As night breaks back into that sweet morning light
And the clutching deep freeze here turns into simple winter cold,
And the sun returns to these southwestern skies in full-out bright and shine,
May I remember to treasure the gift in every full but fleeting moment this day.
A touch of Divine grace
And so it is.