There's something about a snowy night.
It's quiet and still;
the whole world holding its breath.
Every branch of every tree cloaked in dense whiteness - a frozen ermine coat; the darker bark outlined like leaf veins.
Crystals and flakes fall in dizzy patterns, making no sound where they land, joining the legions to cover every surface and blur the hard edges into soft mounds.
I am the only thing moving about; all the other creatures that share my yard are sleeping or hiding, waiting for clear skies and sunlight. If this were rain it would be a storm, a violent tempest sending me scurrying for my own shelter.
But as snow, in the darkness of night, it is peace.