Footprints

In the snow I see foot prints of the people that walk by our house.  I see some of the same foot prints over and over again.  I see the foot prints of a woman who wears little wire traction thingys on her shoes when she walks her dog.  A small dog.  I see foot prints of the kids walking to school.  I see my foot prints.  I see the foot prints of a rabbit that runs across the lawn.  I know the post man has come because I see tire marks on the street.  Eventually, the whole of the walkway will be covered with footprints, you won't be able to make one from the other.

But, when I look out my window, I see no one and nothing.  There are signs of life, in the foot prints, but never do I see the people.  The dog sees the people, because she barks at them.  But it is cold and I am inside, while I might want to see the people, I don't because I don't want to deal with the cold.

When we lived in Connecticut, we lived out the country.  The only signs of life were from animals, and then that was limited.  In the winter, the snow would be untouched and lifeless for days.  Everyone was hunkered down and away from the cold.  Here, the streets are teaming with life.  Is it because there are more of us in a densely populated area or is it because people here scoff at the cold?  Is it because we have better coats or thicker blood?

All I know, is that there are lots of people out walking everyday, in the cold.  Most days, I am one of them.