This comes courtesy of Crawford, with whom I have sat around many firesides. Consider it a companion to yesterdays post. He sent me a photo, and some words describing a climb with his son. Let them speak to you as they will…

Here’s a photo. It’s of snow – so is a bit Christmassy.

The footprints you see are Matthews. We climbed a mountain together.

As I followed in his footsteps it made me consider a few things;

He is now stronger than me and more physically capable – that dented my pride and made me proud.

I was happy for him to plough his own route without waiting for me. I didn’t feel the need to call him back. He was enjoying the journey – as was I.

On occasion he stopped and waited for me patiently. without me asking him to.

When the weather turned and we had to navigate off the hill, he followed me down, trusting me to get us home safe. Following in my footsteps.

It was a time spent in the same place, together but apart. 

There was something unspoken between us about the experience, something precious, a bond.