Patterns in the snow

Stepping into a shadowy paradise of pristine snow, I am greeted by the sounds of birds calling one to another. I do not see the elusive fowl, but instead find myself distracted by the stark patterns against the smooth white canvas. Snow piles high on a maze of limbs against the vibrant blue sky, leading the eye ever further while leading nowhere. Walking further along my path, I discover deep rabbit tracks intermingled with the delicate convolutions of my mysterious feathered friends. All is still in the morning coolness, and I hear only the birds' whimsical cadenzas interweaving with my steadily crunching rondo.