For the past three afternoons, I’ve walked in this setting, across this landscape.
I’ve seen the tracks of rabbits. I’ve seen three hawks circling in the sky, their cries piercing the silence until they perch quietly on the snow-burdened tops of the trees.
As my children sled on the great hill, I part the curtain of evergreen trees and enter into the deep, icy woods.
Later, I think about that hawk’s beautiful cry and the tracks of animals. I think about their secret winter lives.
I’ll go back throughout the winter, listening and watching.