# Milestones in the Quiet Snow

## Walking Through Winter

On this winter solstice, December 22, 2025, the world turns slowly toward light. Snow falls soft outside my window, blanketing the ground in hush. Life feels like this path I've walked for years—steady steps through changing seasons. Milestones mark the way: a first job, a child's laugh, a hard goodbye. They're not grand monuments, just simple stones set along the trail, reminding me where I've been.

## The Gift of Stopping

We rush so often, eyes fixed ahead, missing the feel of earth underfoot. But milestones invite pause. They say, "Here, rest." Last year, at my own marker—a quiet birthday—I sat with old photos, tracing lines on faces grown familiar. No fanfare, just gratitude for the ordinary miles. These stops rebuild us, turning memory into strength for the next stretch.

## Stones That Shape Us

What if milestones aren't victories, but mirrors? They reflect not just distance covered, but how we've changed:
- Softer edges from losses.
- Deeper roots from joys.
- Clearer sight from stumbles.

In the snow's stillness, I see my path clearer. Each stone holds a story, urging me to carry less, notice more.

*May your milestones whisper: the journey is the light you seek.*