I sat in the back of the Dodge Charger and she sat in the front. Really, it wasn't that bad. It has stopped snowing. The spruce trees hang heavy with wet snow and no breeze in the night air to disturb them. Some of the trees bend under the weight of the snow and reminds one of an old bag lady standing still on a street corner.
Clouds gently gather around the moon and together they welcome the freshness of a coming new year.
The air is bright and clear, the smell of wood burning hangs lazily over the village, and in windows, shadows cast by the wood stoves chase across walls and icons. Girls in colorful Russian dresses down to their ankles with ruffles showing and pleats carefully set, go two by two across the back yard and down the trail to the school to play outdoor basketball. They fear no one. Men with long beards and shirts with embrodried patterns and handmade cloth belts around their waists walk under the moonlight heading for another house where a marriageble girl is at. Romance can be touched and felt by the heart under the full moon that casts it beam-like glow, upon a small and humble village.