Impressions in Ice

I’m always intrigued by the tracks left in snow. They’re like memories and experiences trapped in lines, curves, and twists, embedded on a blank canvas of shifting frost and frozen water particles. Now that I think of it, those imprints are almost like visual songs, notes, harmonies, inked on snowy sheet music.

This winter I’ve been paying close attention to the prints left behind by their owners – whether the tiny staccato from squirrels and mice, the heavier drumbeats from my dog and deer, or the light flute-like traces from birds.

There are stories set in the snow, and we can see them if we just take the time to look. I found a tiny burrow from a mouse or chipmunk by following its miniscule pawprints to a woodpile in our backyard, and deer trails become obvious in the forest when layers of their hoofprints can be seen drawing lines of calligraphy through the trees.