The Silent Forest

It is exquisitely, perfectly still,
this landscape, like an utterly
captivating painting of a forest
deep, deep in winter slumber.
So quietly still there is no sound,
nothing moves, though this is a
living landscape. Ambient sound
of huddled wildlife stilled,
hushed by the lavish layers
of snow that storms have ladled
deep into the woods, luxuriating
in the plushy depths on the forest
floor, covering all surfaces, to
the narrow needles of pine,
spruce, fir and hemlock and the
frozen creekbed, stilled in ice.
Wait! a wisp of wind has unravelled
a diaphanous veil of snow from an
over-laden branch, in a lazy, gauzy
tumble below. Even the sun is
muted, its brilliance transformed
to a hazily dazzling diamond of
huge dimensions suspended in the 
silvery white cover of the sky,
an ephemeral vision of winter.