Only yesterday it had been too warm for snow but now it was twilight and the snow had been falling
since mid afternoon.
As he walked through the wood the snow fell softly on the silvery mittens his wife had knit for him
last Christmas and it fell on his boots which left footprints in the snowy path.
It covered the dark branches he trudged past and it landed gently on the frozen
river he had crossed on the wooden bridge back by the road.
Chipmunks and squirrels skittered about here and there in the trees above him, birds sang to him as
he passed under them, and he answered them all with a song of his own which he sung quietly so as
not to break the stillness of the forest.
He had started this walk alone but as he stood in the middle of the high hay field the skies cleared
long enough for the moon to shine down and glisten on the snow covered field that was spinning in a
vast universe which he was, in fact, a part of.