The Siberian Husky took the lead as I followed along, listening to the sound of each step, to the soft crunch of the packed snow. The night air is still and cold, at 7 degrees I was thankful for the lack of wind. Tonight it is supposed to be around -13F.

We walked south for a short while and I glanced off to the west and the field of snow. Long shadows stretched out like otherworldly fingers and claws. The snow glowed a very pale bluish white from the light of the moon that hung low in the eastern sky. I turned eastward and looked through the branches of the towering tree and noted to myself that it was the full moon.
In my personal quest to reconnect to my ancestors I have begun measuring times as Winters, Moons, Seasons and Nights/Days. Four moons now since a major shift in my life. Life is good. I have seen a total of 11 winters in Maine. I breathe deeply and exhale slowly watching my breath drift away in the night. My breath dancing and swirling in the moonlight as it fades into the distance. 
‘Naya interrupts my thoughts, playfully leaping through the snow enjoying the natural environment that has been the home of her ancestors. She climbs a snow bank and stands in the moonlight like some primeval canine from man’s distant past. We both stand there wrapped in the winter’s night air, not moving but observing with all of our senses. 
There is a surreal beauty this night. It always happens after the first real snowfall of the winter. It almost defies description, especially with tonight’s full moon. I truly wish I could tell you what it is like. It is just beautiful. It is one of Life’s moments that can only be shared with someone who is there as well. So with that thought I shall take this memory and lock it in my heart along with the memories of so many past and future journeys.