A SNOWY RAMBLE ON SKYLARK FARM

Joseph and I happily share holidays with both of our families, and this year we joined mine in the Virginia mountains for Thanksgiving. And this year it snowed. Our little-Honda-that-could-not was left in a Burger King parking lot and we were shuttled by my uncle through the woods up an icy, winding road to Skylark farm. Most evenings were spent sheltered from ice and winds playing cards with hands wrapped around steaming mugs.

The first morning Joseph and I looked outside, the atmosphere was so thick with fog that we could see past the cabin's deck, which was covered in eight inches of snow. I ventured outside alone later that day to meet up with my cousins to shoot skeet. The fog had lifted, and I could finally see the miles upon miles of white.

"As happens sometimes, a moment settled and hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped for much, much more than a moment."

- John Steinbeck