When you come upon someone’s heart in the snow, your own heart opens up.
That’s what happened yesterday while walking in the La Crosse marsh. There’s mounds and mounds of virgin snow – and some romantic person, some infatuated poet or artist left his heart, a perfect one, sketched into an otherwise pristine blanket of snow.
It was such a joy to come upon. It made us smile as we stopped to admire it before walking on. But only for a bit – before the urge to leave my own heart made me stop and etch its outline in the snow.
As we continued, we came across several more hearts traced into the pure untouched canvas of white – so simple, so innocent, so playful to discover.
In my sleep on Saturday night, I dreamed that I was writing my blog – (Can you believe it – even as I slept?) and the whole time I was smugly thinking “This is the best blog ever”. But then, upon awakening, only the very vaguest sense remained of that perfect blog.
All day I tried my hardest to recall it – to bring it back into focus but this “perfect blog” was lost – disappeared, just as the heart I left in the marsh yesterday will be lost under today’s new snowfall.
But that’s okay.
Dreams, hearts in the snow – are intangible fleeting moments in our lives. We need to grab them and enjoy them while they last.