Lent Day 10 "Whose Shoes"

The footsteps stretched out ahead of me, frozen into the fresh layer of snow.  I studied each of them as I passed.  The tread on the shoes did not look capable of making traction on such slippery ground covering, but there were no slashes through it to indicate loss of balance.  The shoes seem to have a pimpled bottom, with a tread pattern showing a habit of overpronation--I felt sorry for the shoe owner's knees.  The wind had not yet dulled their definition with blown flakes, indicating that the track had been made recently.

I looked ahead.  The path trodden by those shoes stretched out in front of me, wavering along the path I intended to take.  The deep angle of the sun gave the snow a pitted surface, a miniaturized lunar landscape of glowing peaks and darkened chasms.  The sort of creaking caused by branches rubbing together that only occurs in deep cold played in my ears.  I shaded my eyes against the reflected glare, turned and walked on, following the steps as they advanced inexorably in front of me.

Continued in a subsequent posting...