boots crunch ice and light is fading, but it sparkles all the same across the snow.
trails tell tales of chickens, deer, and bunnies here and gone. we remain as afternoon disappears over the horizon.
i ask for a photograph, but he'll have none of that, cheeks damp from an outburst even kettlecorn couldn't quell. he's a boy-storm of intensity, and he's busy stomping paths.
powerful. deliberate. definitive. every footprint tells a story.
I WAS HERE.
i am.
see me. look what wonders i have wrought!
some footprints fade, but you, sweet boy, are written on my heart.
Tweet