Tracks in the Snow
Alex zipped up his warm coat and stepped outside. The world was bright and cold, with fresh snow covering the ground like a soft white blanket. He could see his breath puff out in tiny clouds.
As he walked toward the Enchanted Forest, something caught his eye. There were little marks in the snow—curved lines, tiny dots, and a trail that zigzagged near the old maple tree.
Alex knelt down for a closer look. “What made these?” he wondered aloud.
A gentle hoot sounded from above. Mr. Owl sat on a snowy branch, watching with bright golden eyes.
“Good morning, Alex,” Mr. Owl called. “I see you’ve found a winter mystery.”
Alex smiled. “There are so many tracks! Some are big, some are small. How do I know who made them?”
Mr. Owl fluttered down to a lower branch. “Every creature leaves a story behind. Let’s look together.”
Alex studied the tracks. One set looked like tiny handprints with long fingers. Another was a neat row of small dots, like someone had tapped the snow with a pencil.
“Those handprints belong to a raccoon,” Mr. Owl said. “Raccoons have clever paws, almost like yours.”
Alex traced the row of dots with his mitten. “And these?”
“Those are from a mouse. See how they hop from place to place, leaving tiny marks?”
Alex grinned. “They look like little exclamation points!”
He followed another set of tracks, bigger and rounder. “What about these?”
“Those belong to a deer,” Mr. Owl explained. “Deer walk quietly, even in deep snow. Their hooves make wide, gentle prints.”
Alex noticed how the tracks crossed and looped, telling a story in the snow. He imagined the raccoon searching for food, the mouse hopping to a safe place, the deer moving carefully through the trees.
“Why do animals leave tracks, Mr. Owl?” Alex asked.
“Tracks show where they’ve been, and sometimes where they’re going,” Mr. Owl said. “In winter, the snow keeps their stories safe for a little while.”
Alex smiled. He stood up and looked at his own footprints beside the animal tracks.
“I guess I’m leaving a story, too,” he said.
Mr. Owl nodded. “Every step is part of your adventure, Alex. The forest remembers, even when the snow melts.”
Alex looked at all the tracks, big and small, and felt a quiet wonder. The snow wasn’t just white and empty—it was full of stories waiting to be read.
He waved to Mr. Owl and headed down the path, careful not to step on the animal tracks. As he walked, he listened for the gentle sounds of the winter forest, and thought about the stories he would tell.
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