Wind erasing our tracks.
Wind, breath, pneuma, spirit, logos:
In the beginning was the wind.
This morning was the weekly TC Dept ski. Lori & I, w/ KelpieTheDog and RTD, went from Motherlode up Buzzy, then around Big Nipper and back. It was a blustery day on the heels of a blustery night, and my tracks from yesterday were barely discernible even in protected areas.
Not a long ski, but a discursive one--dissecting the nature of signs, Lori's goals in the MS project, the virtues of old & young dogs. On our way up the road we met Rick Rossi, dogless and on new skis. His ski buddy died of bone cancer and I was saddened to learn this. Owners of true companion dogs may be a diverse lot but we share an animal bond that, for better or worse, reflects truly on our own nature (if we dare to look).
Wind, that "spirit that moves in all things," erased our tracks as surely as it snuffs out the life of our dog. Short-lived companion, relative to us. Eventually the wind snuffs us out too. If we listen to and read canine companionship, then we can learn this lesson although we might never really accept or understand it.
Some beings endure longer than others. Methuselah the biblical guy lived 969 years. Methuselah the bristlecone pine is pushing 5,000 years and still going strong. And some signs endure longer than others. Gramps carved his name into a board on a horseshed wall in 1911 and last time I visited Cobb Hollow (near Nichols Run, NY) it was still there. Near Moab UT you can see 100-million year old dinosaur tracks. The wind just hasn't gotten to them. Yet.
For me it's still a matter of putting one foot (or ski) ahead of another and making tracks. In light of yesterday's thoughts on teleology, am I getting anywhere? Maybe to the next tree or to the next downhill run. And maybe that's enough.
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