It was a beautiful evening for snowshoeing. Fresh snow falling slowly out of the black sky, and hoar frost already grown thick. And then, the dark bulk of a moose silently appearing against the vague luminance of the trees. Her calf, hanging back to chew a willow, suddenly realizes he has fallen behind and runs to catch up.
Veering off into deeper darkness, fence posts and grasses iced with snow line up to mark the end of the quarter. Up the hill, three shapes materialize. More slender than moose, more tightly strung, the deer scatter into the night.
There are no pictures. It was too dark. Hopefully the description is enough to give you an image in your mind 🙂