12/23/11 — I took a break yesterday and went snowshoeing with family and friends. At one point we came out of the woods onto the edge of a meadow. In its middle we noticed an area where the snow had been disturbed, so we headed over to check it out.
What we discovered were the remains of two forts, both knocked down, and a chaos of footprints. From these clues we were able to visualize the snowball fight that had taken place. The story of that wild and wacky conflict was written in the snow.
Typically, places are not so forthcoming. The signs of what happened before we arrive have vanished along with the players. Still, wouldn’t it be cool if stories lingered as clearly as those footprints in the snow, waiting for a writer to come along and trace them for retelling?