It IS the most wonderful time of the year

I was walking home yesterday through a late fall snow.  It was crow o’clock, a time, around winter when the crows gather to roost in trees for the night, and the trees are so thick with them, that in the dusk, the silhouettes of the birds make the trees look like the tops are still have all their leaves.

Most sounds were muffled, and everything was shrouded in the falling snow.

It was a quite pleasant walk.

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