There I was,

sitting.

Chest deep in freshly powdered snow

as the flurries nipped at my face.

It was about ten below and I was

positioned at the edge of Florence lake,

the virgin snow waltzed across the lake’s icy bottom and, 

covered it with a thin white blanket.

I listened to the noises around me 

but there were none 

Instead of basking in the noises of the backwoods

I found myself swaddled in what felt like, 

everlasting celestial silence 

There was no wind

and no birds

And it felt as if other folks were miles away

It was a 

marvelous

day.