Either that, or all of us have been very, very good. The clouds are gone and the night is cold and crisp and clear. The full moon smiles down on this tiny hamlet high in the hills and God turned up the light power. The tall snow clothed spruce trees stand proudly showing off their white winter coats while their shadows extend across yards like sentinels guarding something precious. The heavy snow in the yards catch the light and play with it.
Sparkles flash and dance upon the crests of the drifts that lie lazily against the fences.
Smooth, unbroken snow glitters in the light of the moon and the world is a wonder. Solitude broken only by the pealing of the church bells in this night of quiet reflection. I stand on the deck in my bunny slippers and shawl and listen. All of my senses in sharp focus, small puffs of steam disturb the air around me as I breathe and as I take a deep breath, a taste of sweet arctic night teases me. Like the coldest ice cream imaginable, but fresher and much, much better.