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Towards the end of February I am as ready as anyone for spring to arrive in New England. Bone chilling cold weather and getting from one place to another during snowstorms is always a challenge. Yet over the months there is a part me that has slowed down, conserved my energy, and with a tugging ambivalence regrets the end of winter, if only because the sound of snow will be gone.

Snow falling has a particular sound but you must be away from traffic, conversations, cell phones, ipods, and bustle of everyday life to hear it. For me the best place to listen is in the woods when it begins to snow.

I remember when I first became aware there was a sound of snow. I had been hiking for some miles deep in the woods one cold afternoon with grey skies. It was a particularly wonderful hike because I was so in tune with my surroundings. I spotted the tracks of deer, rabbit, cat fisher, fox, turkey and coyotes as I rambled along often veering off the trail to look for more tracks. The frozen branches of trees above me sometimes cracked and swayed in the wind as the crunch of my boots on snow was the only other sound I could hear. Continue Reading