Your breath from your lungs mingled with the fog only to dissipate before you with only a moments notice. The silence of these woods in mid November gave way for the wet crunch beneath your feet as you walked home. It was at times like these that you could think, observing the pines heavy with the morning snowfall. Of course autumn’s cold brother would rear his ugly head this early, laying waste to her harvests with unfeeling northern winds. But yet, you could only thank him for the peace he offered to the woods.