21/12/2001 - 10:52 p.m.

Hazy Shade of Winter

The sparse trees stood up to their knees in the snow; cold and dark in spite of the moonlight. Stars shimmered stark light- pin points in the night sky. Between the trees and the stars, a frozen silence made every noise echo in the darkness. Their footsteps sounded loud and large around them, and pausing to hear the lack of noise only accentuated the silence. From the corner of his eye, he saw her turn to look at him, seeing his face caught fully in the moonlight. He felt his hands burning with cold, and brought them to his mouth to blow on them. She took off her gloves and took his hands, and he literally warmed to her touch. He wondered what she was thinking, he felt he should say something.

"It's cold," he said, hearing his voice tear through the silence.

"Do you appreciate nothing?" she asked him. Her voice sounded light and erethral, as though it belonged, not obtrusive, like his. He was entirely out of his depth.

"This is your domain, not mine. I'm from Florida, I'm not-"

She motioned to him to be quiet. He looked at her, and around them. He felt the hugeness and closeness of the silence. Every single wind as it blew across the stark fields filled the air with its whsipers. Drifting with the wind came the calls of an owl.

He heard her voice beside him, quiet. "You cannot begin to appreciate warmth," she said, "until you have known the cold."