As the bedside alarm clock strikes 4, the call to nature rings above the cabin like a bell

Laces are wrapped around the thick boots protecting my feet from the outside,

as I make my way to the midnight black truck hidden by the thickening fog 

The air whips snowflakes and wind into my cherry-red cheeks,

as the smell of coffee envelopes its way into my nostrils

The cracking piles of frozen mud stand no chance against the ridgeway soles of my boots

Marking this land, as the jagged wedges stamp into the ground leaving temporary tracks

A persistent  “Whooo, Whooo, Whooo,” pierces along the edge of branches lining the sky

Leaves, dance in the translucent beams shooting from the old truck in front of the cabin

The ghostly whistling of the wind is shutout by the strumming of a guitar,

Resonating from the radio inside our caravan

Velcro gloves, tightly wrapped, with an extra layer of ivory-green fleece hides shivering hands

A mix of the skylight, and milkwhite snow races across the air toward the speeding-up truck

As if I was being sent across space, traveling at the speed of light into the unknown darkness

As the wheel turns left, those Galant tires take a halt, and the beams of white disappear in an instant

Wind howls through the air, sending streams of snow through my ears like musical notes

The leaves crack and crunch around us, as a fox scurries its way beneath the moonlight

Signifying to the woods, that we are not alone

Rays of light begin to beam their way down through the jagged branches above us

Leaves scattered across the snow-ridden ground, flying through the wind,

Like orange and yellow bugs, whipping past our bodies 

We trot past the frozen bodies of water as we hear the distant echo of thudding,

Pileated woodpeckers cracking their beaks into the oak wood around us.