The Vermont woods were blanketed deep in snow that evening, deep, soft and silent.... As the sun sank in the unseen horizon, it set the cloudless sky afire with a celestial show of colors, and the new-fallen snow slowly settled.... Off, unseen in the thick forest, an old pine creaked its life to the earth and all that would listen.... Nearby, a younger fir tree dropped its load of fresh powder in a quiet avalanche, as if in answer.... A smaller pine near the fir, silently empathic, sent a small cloud of snow falling to the ground in agreement with its neighbor.... A lone figure, a boy of perhaps fifteen years, was seated in the snow, miles from any others of his kind. Eyes closed, body still and silent, the only sign of life from him was the regular, soft, silent cloud of breath from his lips. As the ephemeral apparition dispersed in the cold air, it was disturbed and blown away in thin wisps by the silent zephyrs in the forest, a sign of an oncoming storm. If it were not for this slight ghost, perhaps his presence would not have been betrayed. Sitting in the shadows and in the cover of the boughs of a tree, his white clothing melted into his surroundings, and was slowly covered with falling snow from the now, once again, clouded sky.

A soft sound brought the unobtrusive stranger out of his meditation, and he slowly opened his eyes to see his surroundings as if for the first time. The calm in his soul, at peace with the world, was reflected in his face. Before he had time to wonder at the sound that brought him out of himself, he saw a small form glide into the clearing. A young fox, thin from the hunger of winter, with its nose to the snow, padded towards him unaware, its paws sinking slightly into the snow. With hardly a whisper, the boy drew a small stick of jerky from his pocket, an offering to his visitor. The fox, suddenly alerted, stood watching the boy intently, as snow drifted from the sky and settled on its frosted red coat. Noticing the peace offering, it slowly and carefully approached the boy, hunger overcoming its natural instinct to run. Stopping several feet from the figure, it slowly crouched, its breath touching the boy's hand. Off, unseen, deep in the sylvan wood, an old pine creaked. Startled, the fox disappeared from the clearing in silence, in the snow, in the night, into the woods. Suddenly feeling unfulfilled, the boy stood and began the trek back to the road, and home. n