These Days

These days are muddy. I put one foot slowly in front of the other. I only know that I’ve moved forward by looking backward at the tracks I’ve somehow left behind. Behind me I also see the tracks of others that have stopped somewhere along the way. Some tracks faded with age and distance. Some tracks fresh. So fresh, I can almost imagine that they will somehow continue and rejoin mine.

These days are muddy. I’m not complaining. It’s the tracks in the mud that capture memories. It’s the tracks in the mud that remind me that I’m still carrying on. And I am. I’m still carrying on.

Be well,

Monty

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