Celebrate your own footsteps.
Feet ... those poor, thankless servants, ever first to shoulder the load, ever last to see the sun. Yet, above the quiet toil, they proclaim their joy—if only we allow them, and listen.
Let your steps whisper through dry autumn leaves. Encourage their earnest crunch on dried acorns, their squeals of delight compressing dry snow. Indulge their mischievous cracking of ice edges undercut by melt water. Abide the thin chatter of a kicked pebble.
Celebrate their joy and yours, not just in getting somewhere, but in the going.
0 comments:
Post a Comment
Thanks for visiting One Man's Wonder! I'd love to hear your comments on this post or my site in general.
And please stay in touch by clicking on "Subscribe" below.