Ambiance

Beyond the forest a train bellows through the woods, an organ to an empty church. The sun blotted out, the sky shades of newly sheered wool. Standing still I watch the snow. Angels, wings flash-frozen in mid-flight, crashing into and on me.

The dogs dart in and out of sight between the trees. Muzzles close to the new snow; the scent of long gone animals fresh on the tips of their noses.

I call them back, my voice ringing through the wood competing with the moaning train.

Circling around me now. One paws at my leg, another nose deep in my boot prints. Another, leg raised, marking a frosted sapling.

Through lips the shape of a whistle, soundlessly I exhale. My breath curls forward greyish-white. The snow coerced to dance along the spiralled current.

The dogs dart off again while Winter's edge cuts softly against the Fall.