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He stopped as he reached the turning point. He had walked a mile. Time to start back. He looked at the nearby homes, the ones in the distance seeming to be almost amorphous as they blended with the illuminated air; then up at the trees, their snow-rimmed grayness disappearing in the light. He saw a crow sitting still near the tip of a limb, its blackness startling. He stared and waited for the call, blinking automatically as the snow brushed his eyes, but not changing the direction of his sight. He stood absolutely still. And quiet. Then he heard the call. Three times. The crow above answered and rose slowly and seemed to hover over the limb, the snow ignoring the beating wings, continuing to fall straight and seeming to flow through the crow as it flew to its mate. He watched until it was out of sight, wondering if that could really have been the first sound he heard since leaving the house, or was it just the first he noticed?

He turned and took the first, slow step back.

He retraced his footsteps, the only footsteps in the snow. They seemed small, and though they were alone they did not seem to be lonely. He smiled at the thought of lonely footprints, as if footprints could have a life of their own, or even that they could reflect the life of their maker. Perhaps… who knows? But thats neither here nor there. He was walking amongst his own footprints, simply walking and leaving another set of prints facing in the opposite direction.

And so he walked, keeping himself company. He noticed movement from the corner of his eye and saw two dogs emerging from the trees, snow hanging from their long hair, walking quietly through the snow. They glanced at him briefly and continued on their journey, their noses in turn sniffing at the snow, the trees, the air, but always moving slowly and silently. Harry did not stop, or slacken his pace, as he briefly watched them once again disappear into and behind the trees and shrubs.

He turned another corner and there was a long stretch of flat, crisp whiteness, broken only by his footprints, stretching out in front of him and seeming to disappear in the white’gray distance. It did not seem possible, but the air was even softer and quieter. He continued walking alongside his prints feeling he could walk forever, that as long as the silent snow continued falling he could continue walking, and as he did he would leave behind all worries and cares, all horrors of the past and future. There would be nothing to bother him or torture his mind and fill his body with tremors of fear, the dark night of the soul over. There would only be himself and the soft, silent snow; and each flake, in its own life, its own separate and distinct entity, would bring with it its own joy, and he would easily partake of that joy as he continued walking, the gentle, silent snow falling ever so quietly, ever so joyously…

yes, and ever so love-ing-ly…

loveing-ly….

Of course! thats why the air is so brightly gray and alive instead of the dismal drabness you would expect. Its the lovingness of the snow. God, how soothing it is.

Yes, he could walk forever. He could so easily continue to walk and all thoughts of death would fall away, absorbed by the silent snow.

Harrys breathing became more and more easy as he walked until he was no longer aware of breathing or even if he was breathing, as if the air was simply passing through him, rejuvenating his body without him having to go through the process of breathing. Soon he no longer heard the crunch of his foot on the snow no matter how he strained to hear it, and it did not surprise him as his body felt so light it seemed impossible for him to even leave a print, all he knew was that he could walk forever.

He approached his street but, instead of turning on to it, he continued walking straight, something drawing him down a street he had never been on before, a street totally strange to him, completely unlike any of the others around him. And as he walked his body continued to feel lighter and lighter as if the sparkle in the silent snow, and the sparkle that illuminated the air, was flowing through him and slowly filled every cell and fiber of his being. He knew that he was glowing. He knew that his eyes were afire with that light. He knew that light shimmered from him even through his clothing. He felt his legs getting lighter and when he looked down there were no footprints. The soft cloth of snow spread over the street was still unstepped upon and as far back as he could see there were no footprints. He turned and looked ahead, feeling his movement through the light of the gray, white air, feeling the light become more and more a part of him as he became more and more a part of the light, and all of his being was filled with incredible joy as the light grew brighter and brighter…

and

then he heard it, very faintly at first, but distinct just the same. He heard the snow falling gently through the air, each flake sounded distinctly different, yet just as each fell unhindered by another, so their sound did not clash or interfere with each other, but blended into a snow song that he knew very few had ever heard. And that song became louder, though always gentle, as he continued to be absorbed by the light, to become one with the light… and now there werent any feet to leave prints, or a body or eyes to glow, but just light and sound and pure joy, pure eternal joy. No past, no future, no, not even a present, just ever new joy where there wasnt even a memory of pain or struggle or sorrow… just ever new joy…

and he knew he could stay here forever.

But then the song of the silent snow was slowly replaced with another sound, vague at first but then more and more familiar as he heard it within him. It was a sound he knew, but could not yet identify. It became more distinct and he listened more intently while still trying to cling to the snow song. The new sound gradually absorbed all his attention until it too started to sing within him… then he finally recognized it, smiling suddenly, and then it was the only song he heard… the song of Alice and the children, and he re-experienced all the joys of their life together…

yet still he clung to the thought of the light and the joy of the song of the silent snow, yearning once again to be filled with that joy that forever eliminated doubt and fear, struggling to nurture that fading joy… but then a new sound stabbed him and he suddenly had to fight for breath as he heard his family crying because of his absense and experienced their pain and sorrow, and was then overwhelmed with the realization that he had to go back home. No matter how sweet the song of the silent snow, how beautiful the light, how exquisite the joy, he had to go home.

As he surrendered to this realization he became vaguely aware of his body. He felt that his eyes were still glowing, but now he could feel his feet on the ground, and as he became increasingly aware of his movements, he also became aware that the crying had ceased and he once again felt the love song of his family within him. He felt his face smile as he listened to their voices and felt the warmth of happiness spread through him. It was not the joy of moments ago, but a happiness he had not known for what seemed many, many years, though his mind told him it had only been months; a happiness that he had felt for many years, a happiness he thought had gone forever.

He heard the crunch of the snow under his feet, but once more felt lighter… unrestricted… able to move freely through the pearly gray air and silent snow.

He stopped and stood quietly watching and feeling the snow. He turned and looked behind him at the place where his footprints stopped. A part of him yearned to retrace his steps, to once again become a part of the joy he had briefly experienced, but he knew he could not… did not… want to ignore the other voices within him. He turned and firmly started walking toward home. He did not know what had happened, but whatever it was he knew he now had hope and what once was could be again. He could re-awaken a part of that joy and take home the song of the silent snow. He could share it. He walked a little faster. He knew his eyes were glowing and that Alice would see it. He also knew he could hold her hand.