Found

Before I heard the call of the birds, I was sure no one was out there, in the blinding chill.

Peering out from my den, I see the sun, soft yet insistent, brushing colour in vast gentle strokes across winter’s back…and suddenly I long to feel it on mine.

Out in the open, I worry I will be the only spot of darkness, marring this delicate scene, disturbing the calm harmony of the birds above and ruffling the snow below as I try to make a little space for myself to advance.

And just as I think I should perhaps be happy here, at the edge, where I can admire a world painted for the birds…I notice - oh no! Footprints in the snow!

What selfish creature has passed here? What bold motive would have led them to trudge their marks across this stillness, a path of indiscretion?

I shall find them.

Now, with a path to follow and a fire in my chest, I step out without hesitation, though lifting my paws carefully to preserve the beauty around me. One trail blazer is enough; I need not leave a mark of my own passage.

This brazen ghost I follow leads me far out into the world, through sparkling landscapes of every kind, and I wonder what they wanted to reached so badly, how they knew it was out there, and how they knew how to get there? I think of myself back in my den, and wonder how different I must be from my unwitting guide, and I envy them their certainty.

The sun is low in the sky now. The shadows stretch out around me, and I feel the chill of doubt make its way through my fur… I have come too far to make it home before nightfall.

And then I hear them again. Laughing birds, outraged and delighted and making a fuss. Is my guide bothering them? Have I caught up at last? My feet are cold and suddenly I realise that, somewhere along my journey, the fire of my indignation dimmed to a glow, gentled by all I saw and wondered at along the way. How will I face my foe now, having walked in their footsteps and felt how brave and determined they were to make it all this way?

And yet, the birds call and I hear a kerfuffle, and I cannot resist. I must at least see this extraordinary creature, so different from me.

I follow the path over the top of a hill and my heart stumbles at the sight of them below. Not one but many. Creatures of darkness, just like me, kicking up the snow, unimaginably. They have no doubts, they take up space, they chuff and call and pounce and roll. They seem unconcerned with the birds above or even the cold approaching night.

I feel thrown; suddenly lost and just as suddenly, breathtakingly, found. I take the leap.

I realise, as I skid my way inelegantly down the hill to land in the middle of this fierce and friendly fray, that this world is not for the birds alone, that the tracks we leave help us find one another, that by our dark coats we recognise each other…

…and that there is nothing in this world more warming and hopeful than finding our people to nestle and share warmth with in the winter times of our lives, and through those long dark nights.