Our first snow of the season started around 11 this morning. It is still coming down. Big white flakes like downy feathers. Things get awfully quiet up here. Not a yip from the rogue coyote pack that whines and barks after the midnight train. Not a single moo from the lone cow we’ve heard every evening since June. The air has changed; and the moon is cold; and with all this quiet white, comes the urge to pull things close, draw inward, and drift off to sleep.