Tracks in the Snow

tracks by the fenceThe twelve-passenger van made its way down Yellowstone’s snow-covered road not on traditional tires, but on treads meant to traverse the groomed roadway. Gone were the crowds and the fly fishermen of fall, replaced by seas of white broken by swaths of evergreen and dots of brown, bison in search of last year’s grass to fill their bellies. Two adult trumpeter swans, their arched necks highlighted against the steamy Firehole River, swam alongside a grey cygnet, all camouflaged by the white of the snow and the deep of the water. A cow elk foraged alone for food on a hillside and a bald eagle soared in the sky above.

When we left the Firehole River Valley to follow the Gibbon, we passed a thermal feature I’d never noticed before: the Chocolate Pots. Water flowed from its cone down a short slope to the water below, its deep browns a fountain of chocolate in the forest. Situated on the riverbank across from the road, it was obvious and I wondered how I’d never seen it before. I’d passed by  that familiar stretch of road hundreds of times.

This day was different. Instead of it being just one part of a sea of deep colors—evergreen boughs on brown trunks emerging from dark dirt—it was framed by winter’s white. Snow crept to its very edge and frosted the trees which framed the opening through which it showed itself. It stood out, revealed to me for the first time.

Chocolate Pots

I’d always thought of snow as something that transforms, something that softens the landscape, accenting every beauty and concealing every blemish.

Transformation, it seems, is not snow’s only offering. Its true gift may be that of revelation, and I value what it reveals more than the loveliness of what it temporarily changes. The year we saw the Chocolate Pots, snow showed us more every day.

Tracks in the snow kept us where we belonged as we hiked the hill to Observation Point. Tracks in the snow woke us up, made us pay closer attention and look more closely for wolves in Yellowstone’s Hayden Valley, wolves we eventually found sharing dinner for two. And tracks in the snow showed us, as we wandered over the white and wintry landscape, where we’d been and where we hadn’t.

It’s these trails along the wandering way which may be the best revelation of all. They’re signs of sorts, reminders of the places we’ve been and why they matter. And the open spaces between, those fields of unbroken snow and untried trail, they invite us to carry on.

Wandering is a complicated word. Even though I know the children of Israel’s forty-year tenure in the wilderness was spent waiting, not milling around aimlessly lost in the woods, when I hear a reference to their wandering in the wilderness, it’s milling that I see. And even though I know the dictionary definition means to follow a winding course as much as it means to go astray, it’s the astray part that sticks.

Sometimes what sticks needs to be shed. A little time on the wandering way now and again does us some good. The Fellowship of the Ring is fiction, but the sentiment behind Tolkien’s poem is not:

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

Sometimes the long way around is the best way forward. Sometimes the winding course brings us exactly where we need to be. So here’s to tracks in the snow, the ones that show us not just where we’ve been, but all the places we’ve still to go.

IMG_1313And you? Are you willing to wander?

Sharing this week at Small WondersUnite and Weekend Whispers and Thought Provoking Thursday.

16 thoughts on “Tracks in the Snow

  1. Pingback: All Because of a Little Fire | Along This Road

  2. Pondering these words today, “Sometimes the long way around is the best way forward. Sometimes it’s the winding course that brings us exactly to where we need to be.”

  3. I always eagerly read your Yellowstone posts, as I love that place! The snow really highlights the chocolate pots. I am currently “wandering” in an Arizona desert near Phoenix. I am pretty sure God is using the heat to refine away some of my dross & the intense sunlight here is quite amazing, as I learn further lessons on how God’s light dispels the darkness. I will be returning to Wyoming soon to visit children & grandchildren…can’t wait! Love & prayers, in Jesus, Cynthia

    • What wonderful observations from your time in Arizona’s desert. He uses it all, doesn’t he. Thanks so much for being here and for your encouraging words.

  4. “Sometimes the long way around is the best way forward. Sometimes it’s the winding course that brings us exactly to where we need to be.” It’s a long journey to learning to trust the path, isn’t it? This is a beautiful post, Natalie thank you for letting us wander with you!

  5. I so enjoyed this post! We visited Yellowstone in June 2015 and have been there several other times, but never in the winter. Your words and the stunning photography cause me to consider a winter visit there. Thank you! Visiting as your neighbor on the Small Wonders Linkup Party today.

  6. Natalie, this is sooooo beautiful:
    “Sometimes the long way around is the best way forward. Sometimes it’s the winding course that brings us exactly to where we need to be. So here’s to tracks in the snow, the ones that show us not just where we’ve been, but all the places we’ve still to go.”
    I love the Tolkien quote, too. Not all who wander are lost. Amen.
    Here’s to wandering. And wondering.

  7. Chocolate pots – how delightful it sounds – rich and beautiful. Change brings that doesn’t it – richness and beauty when it’s God-designed change. While reading your post, I thought of how impatient our world would be today to get on with the journey and get to the promised land – and that’s the problem. I’m learning that growing from glory to glory is not a direct experience. It is a meandering experience, giving me time to adjust to the now and tomorrow of this journey. You’ve put it into words so beautifully! Thank you for sharing the gorgeous landscape – and the encouragement to know that this indirect route is maybe God-designed!

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