Good morning!
It’s Sunday, and it’s the first day of February. We’ve donned the swishy snow pants for a walk. Ours are the first human footsteps on the snow, though it’s clear someone else took this path already.
We follow his or her track, and we ponder what distractions and temptations may have beckoned our friend to veer off course?
We stop just before the summit of the Hill That Requires a Commitment. The braver among us might consider sledding down it, but I’ll stay up top with a thermos of hot chocolate.
“Steps with a tender foot, light as on air,
The lovely, lordly creature floated on.”—Alfred Tennyson
Onwards,
Clara
