Silhouettes

My friend Siobhan and I have joined Beth Kempton's Winter Writing Sanctuary. Today's prompt sparked a memory of gazing at the forest from my window on a cloudy night last winter. The snow glowed as if the moon was full but the sky was distorted by heavy clouds. Often the city lights bounce around on nights like these and the world glows brighter than if it had been a full moon on a clear night.

Darkness folds over me as the moon sinks into the dense cloud. The ground has forgotten that it requires light to shine and glows with the new-fallen snow. Fingers of shadows streak the bright forest bed. The night is still. It's only me and the silhouettes of the aspen trees. I squat to wave a hand over the earth. Like a brush, I paint long strokes of shadows across the snow. Kneeling on the soft, damp ground, I scan the thickening clouds for the spot where the moonlight has broken through. The sky is a blanket of glowing grey.

I drop my gaze to the forest. It has changed, or at least my perception of it has. This deep, lifeless wood has awakened. A moving train of dark shapes cut through a row of trees, fifty feet from where I sit. I rock back on my heels to watch the black silhouettes of many four-legged wanderers marching single file through the trees. I lock on too tight and lose them to the night glow. When I blink, the long gait of the beasts returns, and I soften my gaze so they remain in my sight. Their strong backs sway with each step taken in the heavy snow. Their long necks do not waver, nor do their heads flit back and forth with each sound or change of light, as they do in the daytime. With a relaxed gait, they march as if on a long voyage.

A tiny silhouette on slender stick legs hops next to one of the large beasts. The fawn tips her head down and sniffs something on the shining earth. Lifting her narrow muzzle, she hesitates. She has spotted me. She bobs back and forth as each large deer slips past her, but her gaze remains glued to me. She drops her chin to the side as she studies me. She's likely trying to figure out what creature makes my silhouette in the glow of the night. I rise, startling her. She falls forward into the snow. One of the larger deer noses her up and nudges her along from behind. She sneaks short glances over her shoulder as the others push her along the path.

The train of dark deer disappears into the forest. I lay back on the bed of new snow and wonder if she'll think of me in future glowing nights. I know I'll look for her silhouette whenever the aspen trees leave shadows in the night.