Left the house in bright sunshine without a route planned and decided, based on the conditions, to head to the park and run laps on the grass which would have a couple inches of crunchy snow on top. Once at the park, it clouded over and a snow squall kicked up during the first loop. It didn't amount to anything, but it looked nice and it was fun to run with the snow whipping my face. Someone had skied laps and left tracks around almost the same loop I was running, minus the bit behind the basketball court.
After a couple of laps, the snow stopped, the sun came back out, and I could see my own tracks clearly in the snow.
There was something bizarrely hopeful and beautiful about those footprints--like a metaphor for life, relationships ... our democracy. The runner who had made those tracks may require a lot more work and a little more care than he used to, but he still had plenty of potential, and imagination. And he was well past taking any of it for granted.