Winter Twilight

This day has been reserved for snow. The
lid of the sky clamped tight shutting out a
winter-clear sky, refusing entry to the sun
a pervasive aluminum sheen, silvery-white
overall, the colour of the snow tumbling
lazily through the atmosphere. If you are
ambling through the woods, you note how
blanketed the depth of white on the forest floor
how limned every branch of every tree
from the last snowfall still burdening
needled boughs of evergreens. There is
a hush throughout in the tranquility of the
landscape as snow descends touching your
cheeks, your eyelashes. Wait, that sudden
movement over there -- no, over there!
Imagined, or real, surely there are other
creatures besides yourself there, where you
intrude and they live their lives. With the
Winter Solstice dusk creeps early and
swiftly, and suddenly twilight with its
merest hint of shadows is no more, for you
see, this is winter and night has arrived.