There has been a strange melancholy across the fields and through the woods, a blankness under the snow, as if the landscape had not yet been fully painted; a big and empty canvas. Somewhere out there are rivers, houses, businesses and people, but you’d never guess by the silence that snow brings. The first skirmish with snow has sent all our residents, man, beast and fowl, back to earth to muster their strength for the next battle, whatever that may be.
As I skirt somberly around the fields just south of the village I am startled by a sharp burst from the undergrowth as a pheasant bolts for safety at my approach. Silence falls again, broken only by the beating of my heart and the crunch and squeak of snow on frozen ground as I go on my way.