Snowy Days

There is no silence quite as perfect as the silence of a forest on a snowy day.

I have a memory of a perfect day- a day that I spent quite alone- just myself and my horse, walking into the woods on a day such as this one. Although it was a trail that we frequented, nothing seemed familar. It was as if we had entered another land.

I let the reins hang. My feet, encased in heavey boots barely fit in the stirrups. There were no sounds, save for the muffled crunching of hooves. No birds sang. No water rippled in the nearby creeks.

We turned this way and that, more by habit than design. She stopped abruptly and turned her head as if to ask permission. I realized that we were at the top of a trail that I imagined was known only to us and to the deer. It went straight down for some hundred yards, then stopped in a grove of pine trees. Although I knew it was foolhardy, I tapped her lightly and we moved off, she slipping and sliding, me hanging on for dear life.

In the end- it was worth the ride. The snow heavily blanketed the pines, the creek, frozen solid, twinkled in the light, and the silence was palpable.

It remains in my memory, a golden moment. Totally alone, totally at peace, enthralled with the fairy world around me.

I think of that time whenever the snow blankets the earth. I pull the memory out and savor it.

Peace on earth.




Free Counter