Footsteps in the Frost

I have always enjoyed the feel of the sun on my face when there has been a heavy frost overnite, and this day begins just as it should with old friends greeting me. The frost will be gone in an hour or so, disappearing in a cloud of gas that has a dream like smokey haze. Water, what a wonderful molecule, useful in all its' forms; such as, solid, liquid, and gas. That occurs to me as the sun turns it into diamonds, glistning on the grassy fields around me, winking with amusement at me as I walk along. Water doesn't need me, it is constantly busy building and remodeling, and it knows I can't live without it.

I turn and look behind me at the trail and see the footsteps in the frosty grass, for a moment I think, someone must be following me, but they belong to me. Yet, still, am struck with the thought that someone does follow, and as I return to the forward trail this thought haunts me. I turn again and see the imprints of the treads of my boots slowly fading as the frost transforms from solid to liquid to gas and rises in a thin white cloud to meet the sun.

It is often true, that simpicity and clairity are really the same concept, and insight depends on the simple and clear. I feel I have always been followed and even, at times, been blocked and held prisoner by burdensome emotional events of childhood, that I am now all to familiar with. They, now, neither hold or obstruct my path, but follow in their place far behind where they belong. They will be there forever fading as the steps in morning frost. Just like the water doesn't need me I don't need them anymore. I am no longer the solid trapped in rigid boundries for I am free to run and rise.