The Red Gnome

He is the merest wisp of a man,
frail, elderly yet sufficiently
determined and energetic to daily
perambulate a landscape holding
little allure for urbanites, save for
a distinct few whose life values
remain enmeshed with meeting
nature on her own terrain. He has
been absent from the forest trails
for months, now suddenly reappeared.
In red toque, thin red jacket, white
shirt and an apple on each cheek
he wields his two walking sticks
with an agility and speed missing
in the autumn months. Surgery
since then has replaced a hip and
now he propels himself on the 
snow-laden woodland trails with
his old enthusiasm, pain evaporated.
His red attire, unchanging regardless
of the month and climatic conditions,
flares brightly on the background
of pure white. When he left
Switzerland for Canada, those
signal colours, red and white
transposed from a cross to a
Maple leaf, all else remains the
same comforting hue of home.