Footprints in the Snow

It feels like the first time, every time. 

I was walking down the sidewalk this morning, following footprints in the snow. I realized I was following my own footprints, footprints that I left there yesterday. So, I was making new prints, following my own old prints. Wonder how long they will last? A deep freeze is coming, maybe they will freeze in place for a little while?

It's a little example of permanence and impermanence. We have the illusion that we create things that last, but of course, we don't. And a footprint in snow; how to read it? What kind of boot, what kind of gait, where is this man going? And why?

I mean, I know this man, and still, he is sort of a mystery to me. Sometimes he seems to be walking to some certain future, a path of destiny, but then again, sometimes he seems to be walking in one very crooked, one very broken circle.