Winter's Heart

It is winter here. Deep, dark, quiet winter. Under the heavy blanket of snow there is something brewing, beginning. I was out putting up step-in posts for the electric fence when I came across emeralds hiding beneath two feet of snow and last year's layer of dead leaves. Moss. Bright green and living, in the silence of winter.

The woods are ethereal. My own footfalls ring loud among the hibernating trees. I am an intruder.