I tried. I really did. At 8:45 a.m. was headed to my car with copies of “Silent Night” and “Behold That Star.” Waded through the 8 inches of powder under flakes still misting. Even opened the car door. Then I thought: wait. I have a full free day ahead of me, with no plans, no obligations, all this new snow and a pair of brand new snow shoes in the shed…..
Be holy or selfish?
The occasional Adamant choir would have to do without an alto.
I ran back, grabbed my camera and dove onto the trails behind the cottage. Trails with no walker yet. Trails like powdered sugar. Trails that went out into clearings and in under boughs. Trails where I could swear I was the only person on the planet. Every so often a puff came down the from the pines, looking like the breath of some benevolent pine giant, 
or perhaps a genie come to grant me three wishes. It was quiet and there were trees shaped like bananas and the backs of dragons and rainbows, arched and reaching. It was quiet and there was my breath and cold on my cheeks and thoughts of Joy on her guitar in the choir and Joan playing the piano.
Snow, friendship, a little money in the bank.
You can’t tell me that wasn’t a prayer.
On Sodom Pond 