Winter Wonderland

 After a winter storm, the white fluffy snow sticks lightly to the barren ground. In the sunlight, the snow sparkles of gold and stars.

The fallen snow rests upon trees, inanimate objects in the yard, and two large machines, whose landscaping duties have been delayed. It rests upon parked cars and still roofs. Against the light and blue sky, the landscape below is lit up in a winter wonderland of crisp cold and weekend silence. 

New winter boots fit snug on my feet. A new winter coat and some borrowed gloves warm chest and hands while a winter hat holds tight to head and hair. Barish, my dog, prances playfully near me as he awaits our direction. Maybe a walk across the field. 

The crunching of winter boots on frozen ground overrides everything. I walk uphill toward shimmering light through still trees. A crow caws from a tree somewhere. The distant sound of a snow blower momentarily pierces the previous silence and then stops.  

The destination sits behind a perfect row of trees that reach into blue sky. They are as tall as each other and form a boundary to the bright white land that I see beyond them. A rock wall is covered mostly in a thin layer of neatly packed snow. 

I can see the lake through the trees as I approach the field. The sun is no longer shielded by trees but beats down with warm rays upon Barish and I and the untouched snow of the widening landscape ahead. 

Such quiet in the middle of the field. 

Barish is up ahead now, his head to the snow smelling the tracks of animals from the day and previous night. His bright orange collar contrasts against the white all around him. 

The lake beckons. 

With each step, I kick up snow in front of me. The sound of my boots fill my ears and senses once again as I crunch upon fragile ground. The subtle slushing sound of snow being gently pushed ahead of me complements the footsteps upon the Earth. 

Barish runs across my path without warning. And back again. 

I observe each step toward the lake with innocence and attention. In the state of full presence now, all thoughts disappear. The quieted mind gives way to feelings and sensations only. Everything is alive within me and around me. 

There is no difference between them. 

I quicken my pace and notice the new sound that it creates in the snow. I stop. Wait. I look up a small hill into the intense sun. In other direction, I investigate my shadow reflected upon a mirror of white. 

Who am I? 

The lake is close through many rows of trees on water's edge. The water has a thin layer of ice that interacts with the sun and its surroundings. 

The brush of fallen branches and some surviving vegetation crackle below me and scrape against my clothes. I push through it and move down a small incline to be only a few yards from the shore. 

Rocks jut up from the water in nicely divided rows. The frozen lake sits unmoved and serene. There are new ice formations and the beginnings of designs to come if the snow stays away. The ice collaborates with these rocks on the shore. They have done this before. 

The cry of a loon now echoes across the landscape and its many directions. The loon is still with us, probably sifting through unfrozen water to communicate its message. 

An eagle soars over.  

Barish is near me now. He sits and we stare out onto the lake. I breathe in the cold, refreshing air. Barish's nose begins to move from side to side. He leaves quickly. 

I close my eyes to be fully in the silence. 

I am nature; I am snow. I am sight and sound. I am light and sky, bird and dog. I am life as it is. I am what it unfolds.