9 January 2005

Snowprints

--by Mike Murray

Our pre-dawn excursions, carried out in a darkness that is illuminated only by sporadic street lights much of the year, are brightened considerably by a brilliant blanket of white on glorious winter mornings.

My canine companion and I revel in the chilly solitude.

We speak not with words, but with occasional glances and shared thoughts. We move along in silence, celebrating the experience. We are partners in the effort all year, but never more so than when the air is cold and the snow is measurable.

An overnight accumulation brings special delight. It offers the chance to connect with those who have preceded us, and also with those who will follow.

Fresh prints -- prints that could not have existed the day before -- reveal much. The size of human footprints confirms the gender and the approximate weight of the person who made them. The number indicates whether that person was alone or had company.

I am always gratified to find tracks that consist of one set human, one set canine. I imagine that someone else before me knew the pleasure I now drink in. And it is especially wonderful to observe that the prints are sufficiently spread out that the pair must have been jogging.

When my knees cooperate, my pooch and I know that joy. It does my heart good to know that others do, too. I sometimes observe a robustness of stride length that indicates that the runners who have preceded us are presently enjoying a level of fitness that has long eluded me. Good for them.

These days, I am grateful that I can run at all. For, while the thrill of competition has long since evaporated, it has more than been replaced by a nirvana that that results from chugging along -- down wooded trails or city streets -- with a dear canine friend.

I value my time alone with my dog. I am buoyed by a physical effort made more strenuous by cold weather and inches of snow. I love the solitude that being out while others slumber offers.

But I also enjoy the unspoken, unseen connection to a community of like-minded souls. When the temperatures fall and the flakes fly, they leave their prints in the snow for me. And I leave mine for them.