Footprints in the Snow

A perfect Sunday morning, cold, clear and crisp.

What shall we do this morning?

How about a walk in the snow?

"Sure Dad, let's go," says my lively three year old.

And so I follow the Footprints in the Snow and cherish every minute. These are the times I shall always remember, the times I shall always love, following the Footprints in the Snow.

And when you grow tired and can't walk anymore, then I will carry you and together we will make our own Footprints in the Snow.

WHITE FIELDS by James Stephens (1882-1950)

In the winter time we go
Walking in the fields of snow;
Where there is no grass at all;
Where the top of every wall,
Every fence and every tree,
Is as white as white can be
Pointing out the way we came,
Everyone of them the same
All across the fields there be
Prints of silver filigree;
And our mothers always know,
By the footprints in the snow,
Where it is the children go.