So many tracks through these woods, used by so many creatures. The one I walk, I do little more than borrow it. I am here, then gone from this earth.
What will be left after I am dust? Not even my footprints.
My trace will be seen in the memories and stories of the descendents of those I have greeted as I walk these woods.
So let me smile at this fellow who now approaches.
(Letter #2,480)
Daily Letters to God 