The snow is thick with footprints. I snowshoe through the deep
snow to the side of the broken trail. The preserved cross-country
ski trail runs next to me. Sun reflects off a thin film of ice left
by the parallel runners. I'm trying to visit the impressions of a family
snowshoe outing in Estes Park, Colorado. Dad wears a light brown
jacket. The colors of our clan our light brown, green, and purple.
I am getting closer to a barn. A few red jackets are gathered together
in a hay wagon ride that is about to start. A ranger in a winter brown
suit stands above two brindled blond horses. A man in yellow
with sunglasses riding a chestnut horse approaches. Beyond him
a photographer turns and sizes up his subject. A few minutes later
I stop while the hay wagon rolls past. On the bench a man stares
through me. He holds a case that certainly contains something
valuable. The ranger wears earflaps. I smell the pasture mixed
with burning leaves. A white horse is drawing closer to me.
I wave at the rider and the color fastness of her red riding blanket.