On trips. And the things they teach us.

The three of us sat on the shore of Fallen Leaf Lake.  Our cheeks were red from the cold air, and from walking through the snowy forest to get there.  The white carpet crept gently up to the water, but had melted several yards from the banks.  That is where we were perched, atop stony pebbles and water-logged logs.  Gracie found a stick of burnt charcoal, and used it to make etchings on a stripped and fallen tree.  Her fingers traced the outline of a heart.  The charcoal dropped to the ground; she blew gently upon her drawing, and the dust dispersed into the mountain air.  "The answer is blowing in the wind", she joked.  But she was right.  Love is the answer, and her drawn-heart had just been picked up by the breeze.  This made me understand Bob's song on a whole new level. :-)