Snow Vision

I love the snow. Snow is my spy camera capturing what was but went unseen. In the snow I see the prints of my beloved bunnies. The bunny dance in the backyard leaves its trace in a labyrinth of circles and twists. Sometimes my eyes move up the trunk of the evergreen tree from the snow and back down to the bunny prints that stop right in front of the tree. Each scan acts like a pulley drawing the corners of my mouth upward into a smile. Squirrel footprints adorn the snow and snow covered steps leading up to the bird seed on the deck. Two very excited dogs create a necklace of paw prints. All of these prints, dances and life are here every day but remain hidden until it snows. Maybe if I could have one Christmas wish, or perchance the grace of another falling star, I think I would wish for snow vision. With snow vision, I could see the footprints, dances and play that pass through my life. I could see the prints of those whose prayers, love and kindness walk in front, behind and beside me as they lead, guard and offer companionship. I think of snow vision and I chuckle to realize it exists in the eyes of the heart. It is the eyes of the heart that go through my day casting snowflakes of trust, hope and faith wherever I walk. I have but to look and see with the eyes of the heart, with snow vision, the prints of friends, family and humanity that walk with me.