Those Who Came Before

 We stand upon the shoulders of those who went before.

'If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of Giants. ' Sir Isaac Newton

The December air was crisp as I stepped out of the car. Morning was cusping and sunlight caused the frosting snow to glitter. 

Bundled in my winter gear and feeling warm, I began the journey around the paved trail that circles our local pond. The area was vacant except for me; the frozen water and surrounding brush seemed still and gentle. 

As soon as my feet breached onto the path, it was clear that the quarter inch dusting of snow disguised ice beneath it. Instead of a light jog, I adjusted my plan making to a watchful walk around. 

As I traveled, I instinctually looked for foot prints that had gone before me. There weren't many- but enough. 

I watched for where they had stepped, brushing away the snow with their sneakers and revealing glimpses into the slip level of the ground beneath. In a few areas, there were wild swooshes of snow swept away- an obvious fall by the one who had made them. 

These tracks of the people who had ventured out before me- left clues. I began to see that the falls on the ice were in areas where a darker black ice shone through the glimmering snowflakes in puddle like circles. A subtle but definite difference if I was paying attention closely. 

I could see that people were taller and shorter by the length of their strides, some people had walked together, some steps were obviously women's shoes and others were not. An electric bike had been out in the morning, two strollers, and even a tractor of some kind on a short patch of the trail. 

There were footprints with deep imprints and others that were wispy- hmmm, those who drag their feet. Some steps were inverted and other outward- telling me about their leg alignment and therefore their knee strength. 

Strange, to see and understand all this information from a morning trail. I humored myself imagining myself to be a tracker from days gone by- and how I was able to see so much from the markings left in the snow. The slips and falls that were easy to identify- warning me of where to step carefully and slow down. The clumping of steps of peoples paths that joined one atop another, immediately told of more traction and safe steps. When the steps widened in gaps- I knew that they were able to walk faster there, when gaps lessened, I knew they had gone slowly. 

An entire story and narrative was being told in the silent and solo morning. Dog prints, birds, and even a deer had crossed before me that day. 

The experience made me reflective on life. 

That those who have traveled before us- those without footsteps to follow, were courageous. They fell more, but left a guideline for the rest of us. I felt grateful and reverent, thinking of the ancestors I have, the historical figures that have made differences in our world, scientific breakthroughs and more. 

I circled the pond on the trail and a new phenomenon occurred. I could spot my own sneakers prints now. I could see where I had traveled. So much like our own learning and past that we refer to for reference and growth. 

I thought about the steps I am leaving behind me. The tracks for my own children and posterity to follow or reference as they pave their own way. 

I felt grateful for the opportunity to have a body healthy and alive enough to carve a path. 

Ironically, I also knew that within moments the sun would be warm enough and the light snow would be gone by noon. But what a treasure to see this message as I walked. 

The sun reflected onto the water and I remembered the ancient Hermetic principle that states "as above, so below." and pulled out my phone to capture a photo- as I did, my left foot swirled across ice and I narrowly avoided making a kersplat upon the ground. 

Looking down at the dramatic flair of that stumble now etched into the snow- I smiled. 

Knowing that my mistake would be the warning for others who may travel behind me to tread carefully there. 

A beautiful morning. A beautiful reminder.