We live to make a path in the snow.
To venture out into the wilderness, our guide dog barking and snuffling in the brush.
Out into the wilderness then back home.
A path made.
No lasting mark, but just enough to give a hint of our existence, our presence, our matter.
In the broad world we have trekked, and then returned home, to re-collect.
Warm. With hints of snow melted into the jacket collar.
Dog sleeping by the fire, paws twitching.
Originally posted as a comment on Dosho Port's FB page. Inspired by his pictures from walking his dog in the snow.... https://www.facebook.com/dosho.port/posts/10203385737226955