The northern cold and snow arrived late this year. Huddled against the wind we walk icy paths to the hilltop. A clear view of the cloud-skewed sky. Pockets of white, grey, and rare blue. Various footprints scattered from trees to grasses. We stop briefly to admire the apparent stillness when only the wind is heard,…
Morning purple sky becomes a thick icy fog consuming the landscape until the only path, the only way forward is through the white veil with eyes closed and the future in my hands.