WHEN THE SNOW CAME 



ment in the first faint breathing of the 

 north wind bearing many flakes. 



Thus the snow comes to the woods. 

 You can see its portent glooming in the 

 sky for hours beforehand, smell it in the 

 rich, still air and feel its touch on your 

 cheek. When I stepped out from under 

 the cathedral gloom of the space beneath 

 the pines, I found the air full of flakes 

 whirling down from the north and the 

 field white with them. 



Standing in the midst of the storm in 

 the field, you have a chance to see some- 

 thing of its color, for after all falling 

 snow is only relatively white. Looking 

 toward the dense, dark foliage of the 

 pine wood, you see it at its best, especially 

 across the wind, for the contrast is most 

 vivid and the color most distinct. Each 

 individual flake is so distinct and so 

 white, from those near you, which go 



