One of my favorite things about the snow is its memory. Anything that passes on it often leaves an impression that I don’t have the skills to see in times when the snow is not here. It’s great to see the hodgepodge gathering of tracks around the compost pile – and that we’re helping to sustain the murder of crows ( how often do I get to use that term?) the hordes of mice and other creatures that feast on our apple cores, avocado pits and brown, spotted collards. More satisfying though is to see tracks of larger creatures – coyotes, bobcats and fox that traverse our spaces to other places. The lines between the deer and the coyotes and bobcats rarely intersect and often there is a healthy distance from our house and barn.Those predator tracks reveal that our place is not a destination – but part of a connected corridor where unseen animals pass silently when we are not there. I find that comforting – that they’d want to cut through here – and that there are worlds within our world here that we have no other conception of other than when we get the fleeting glimpse of it. As an artist too, there’s something powerful to me about seeing the print of other creatures on the landscape. A print ( I am told) can indicate intimate details about the animal that leaves it. Making my living my assembling compositions of marks in color or computer key strokes, I feel an affinity for these marks – intentional or not that these creatures leave – they bear witness to a path or habit or biological programming I’d have no conception of other than with the help of the snow…. I’ve been tempted to follow the tracks – but I never end up doing so in any real way – it’s enough to know they’ve been here, weaving our little place into their habitat with the thread of their trails.
