Looking out my window this morning I could see the white covered ground, fresh and crisp from last night's snow fall. As my six-year-old and I ventured outside to the car I could see footprints on the driveway, my husband and son leaving traces from their early morning travels. My youngest son's prints were small by comparison, I noticed, as we both added our imprints.
When I returned from the school drop off, I took some remaining garbage to the curb and noticed where my husband had hauled the can to the driveway apron earlier - neat little lines with rectangular tread marks being left in the can's wake.
Only later in the morning did I look out the back window to the white blanketed grass. It is alive with prints. I had noticed the squirrels this morning, playfully running up trees and fences, and they have left their mark, but there is more. Right next to the house I see other prints that must be rabbit prints or a very large squirrel. And other tracks crisscross the yard, some close together, others feet apart (pardon the pun).
The world is teeming with life and stories. Do we take time to notice? It will go on happening whether we see it or not, but oh, what we miss when we don't stop for a moment to watch, to observe, to notice. Our kids are the same way. How much do we miss when we don't take a moment . . .
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