What wild power of mother nature is it, that causes us to pause and view the new fallen snow? That holds us for a moment unable to proceed, unable to step into that which is so fresh and clean that it seems to be from another world? What is it that stops us?
What is that contrary streak in man, which causes us to plow ahead into the untouched landscape? That forces us to move forward and leave a mark, to claim that we have been here, to be the first to mar the perfection? What is it that pushes us forward?
1 comment:
Oh yes, agree with you completely, just the other day I thought "Blasted snow!" Wish it would all melt. Couldnt' have put it better myself.
JK. Good thoughts.
I always enjoy your blog.
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