Footprints in the Sand

Lauren Van der Post’s two books, A Story Like the Wind and A Far-Off Place tell the story of a European boy coming of age and learning a new perspective on life from his Bushman friend. Instead of the European “civilizing” the African, it's reversed: the latter “naturalizes” the former by teaching him how to live on this earth in company with all of God’s creation. Whereas the Europeans wake up and read the newspaper to get the news, the Bushmen read the tracks on the ground to find out the news of what went on the night before. Likewise, they listen to the wind, tune into the bird song and animal chatter, attend to the weather. 

 

So this morning, my last at Lake Michigan for this year,  I had the good sense to walk on the beach before opening the computer and there on the sand was all the news from last night and early morning, written in the hieroglyphics of bird tracks, bug tracks, dog and deer tracks. Of course, being the modern civilized man I am, I am completely illiterate in sandtracks. I could figure out the signatures of seagulls and dogs and people, but there were others unfamiliar. And simply recognizing them is like naming letters of the alphabet, but being a long way from understanding War and Peace. When were they made? Did the tracks that crossed happen in real time? Did any of these creatures actually meet and if so, what happened? 

 

Whether or not I could literally decipher them, it was so much more uplifting to just notice them and wonder than to listen to a talking head. So much more interesting to figure out a real fox's news than the fake one on the screen. 

Then walking back noting my own footprints that came the other way and thinking  how, at the end of the day, our legacy is pretty much just footprints in the sand, never seem by most, ignored by those walking by them, quickly washed away in the sea. But no matter. We were here, we left our imprint and then moved on to other unknown shores. 

 

A good way to say goodbye to Michigan and so I will. But first one more swim in the back lake.