The world’s suffering makes my heart heavy. When I see the video of all the mothers and children fleeing from their homes in Ukraine, tears stream down my face. The destruction, chaos, and trauma imposed by one unhinged guy is overwhelming and rips a deep tear in my constructed fabric of Goodness. Even here at home where the pandemic has killed nearly one million people—it’s like wiping out all the people who live in South Dakota and then a hundred thousand more. And then there are all the people I know who are suffering with or dying from a cancer diagnosis—is it just me or does that seem to be on the rise? What’s a person to do with all that suffering?

I strapped on my snowshoes and hiked into the snow and cold. Our below normal temperatures this week have preserved the snow cover, beyond the melting of the edges from the strong, March sunlight. The cold felt good on my face, a relief from the hot suffering of people I know and of the millions I do not. Our gathering place around the firepit is still engulfed in snow—only the deer have been wandering through in their quest for food. I followed their path and offered a couple old apples for their browsing brunch. Won’t that be a delightful surprise?!

Deer trails cut through the trees and over fences. The snow reveals some secrets of the other seasons—the travel routes of deer and other animals. They seem to be creatures of habit or perhaps know to take the easiest route—just like us.

My previous snowshoe tracks had been covered with a bit of snow, but the deer had already been using the trail. I felt like I was walking at the Sumac treetops with all the snow that has accumulated over the Winter. Getting off the trail definitely makes ambulating much harder!

In no time at all, at the corner of Deer and Fox (tracks), Nature took over my mind, washing away the thoughts of suffering for the time being.

Rabbit and squirrel tracks zigzagged erratic paths around and to trees, their light little bodies not worrying about sinking through the deep snow.

Last year’s fox den was definitely occupied by someone, with many curious onlookers, including myself.

I’m pretty sure Mr. Possum had been out wandering for food—see his tail track? Maybe he made the old fox den his winter home.

It’s a busy place out there.

Farther along the trail I noticed a dark spot in the snow, so I veered off the trail to investigate. A deer carcass was mostly buried under the snow but had provided many meals for the carnivores of the forest.

There was a deer-sized indentation in the snow where a deer had bedded down for the night, though the bed had a new blanket of snow on it.

I continued on the little road, following one deer trail while others intersected it, coming and going through the trees. A community of animals with their roads, homes, and eating places.

An allee of Pines with its chevron shadows create a perfect corridor for travel.

Spring is already showing its signs, despite the snow and cold. More birds can be heard singing and flitting through the trees, and on the south side of a large Pine tree, the snow has started to melt away from the warm, brown pine needles.

I had added my tracks to those of the woodland creatures as I witnessed the evidence of their Winter lives in the forest. It was a beautiful, brisk day—a perfect day for snowshoeing.

A quote fell into my lap today—timely and serendipitously—from Helen Keller: “Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.” While it is important for us to be compassionate witnesses to the realities of war, illness, and suffering, we must also cultivate and elevate the simple acts of ‘overcoming it’ that we see in the world. I appreciate the news outlets that include snippets of that Goodness that mostly go unseen. Those who dwell on and promote the negative and divisive aspects of our society, politics, and culture do a disservice to themselves and to us all. It’s a balancing act to witness and acknowledge the reality of suffering in our world and to do the same with the acts of overcoming it. Nature is a balm for overcoming suffering, as are gathering places of loved ones who lift us up and simple acts of kindness and offering. Spring is a hopeful, uplifting season—every year it overcomes the harshness of Winter and the heaviness of suffering. Food becomes abundant, new life is nourished, and life energy flows with renewed vigor. Isn’t that a delightful surprise?