Snow prints

Snow prints.

They can tell the story of who visited this place, and show the chosen path.

I see that deer stepped onto a frozen pond, just as far as the snow-covered ice ended. Did they drink from the exposed water circle, before jumping to solid ground?

I see a grass-exposed hillside. The white ground below bears trails of snow-saucer adventures down the slope. I thought of the sweet elderly nuns who live here. Did they trade their teacup saucers for snow ones, and sneak outside for play time? I imagine their joyful cries, racing down the slippery incline, as they beamed with memories of childhood. They apparently wore out all of the snow, for only this side was barren of white!

Further down the path, human shoes had made just a few steps into the snow. They apparently tested its depth, changed their minds, and turned back.

Past that, more hoof prints had graced a straight line down the hill to a stone wall, from which the deer surely leaped.

Snow prints. What story’s path do yours tell?