A delicate sprite I fancy to be in the woods as the snow falls with such a heavy veil
Sharing my secret
Keeping my presence concealed
Light and bright and sparkling as just a bit of sun breaks through the clouds and filters through the falling snow around the spruce trees
Fat rich intricate flakes dancing about me as I dart through the trees
Though I progress faster in my mind
Slower in reality
Moving about the mountain now is cumbersome
Is it the age or the elements?
I say the snow slows me down
Wrapping around my legs and clinging like a needy child
I do not have the speed and grace of the bounding elk nor the spirited puppy.
More likely I press forward
Step by labored step
Leaving a yawning trench in my wake
Which will last only until the winds blow strong enough to level the minimal mark I put down on the mountain
And I am chased back to the comfort of my cabin
The reality of the burden of my tired body
And the wood sprites are left alone to frolic in their own world without me.