It was late in December and the sky turned to snow. The quiet of a cold afternoon broken only by footsteps in the snow and the cracking of the ice underfoot. The winds picked up and began to howl with anger, but there were no leaves on the trees anymore to blow. Coming inside the cabin, the fire is built and the soup is heating. Nothing was happening yet so much was happening that I failed to note of. The minutes turned into hours and I hardly noticed. A sliver of sun cracked through and glistened across the snow. Then night fell softly, like a blanket of snow and I lost myself within it.