It was late in December
and the sky turned to snow. The quiet of a cold afternoon broken only by
footsteps in the snow and the cracking of the ice underfoot. The winds picked
up and began to howl with anger, but there were no leaves on the trees anymore to
blow. Coming inside the cabin, the fire is built and the soup is heating. Nothing
was happening yet so much was happening that I failed to note of. The minutes
turned into hours and I hardly noticed. A sliver of sun cracked through and
glistened across the snow. Then night fell softly, like a blanket of snow and I
lost myself within it.
