Backward Tracks. . .

I smiled as I traipsed through the snow, following my own footprints, going to and from the garage this morning, thinking of Thoreau. He mentioned how methodically he used this procedure to make his way between his cabin and Walden Pond to procure his winter mornings' water. Facetiously, I said to myself, as I stepped carefully into each of my own backwards tracks, "Thus, eliminating the need to fuel up the snow-blower, I suppose." As that thought developed further, I imagined what an intrusion our (then) futuristic world would have been on the solace he sought. Which is the more deprived Era? I wondered. Then? Or Now?

While I am a firm believer in the art of moving forward, lest we wither and stagnate, I think it is a shame that, in the process, we sometimes deprive our souls of the nurturing that Simplicity has to offer.