Winter Squirrel

The squirrel scampered up the gnarled and weaving trunks that formed a large thicket, knotted round and round. As he ran, gray in the morning’s half-light, the squirrel was chased by a stream of billowing powder. With every step, he kicked up the light snow that lay peacefully on the trunks and branches. Leaping limb to limb, the squirrel finally disappeared into the thicket of cold and twisting bark, leaving a frozen stillness over the glen behind him, as the last of the fluttering powder drifted to the ground.