The magic began the moment we pulled into the near empty snow covered parking lot at Heather Meadows. I pulled on my rainpants over my fleece sweats and laced up my hiking boots. I put my down vest on and wrapped my scarf around my neck. John handed me my snowshoes and poles and I heaved my backpack onto my back and slung my camera around my neck and under my arm.  Silently we walked over to the trail as other snowshoers started off. We had immediately purchased our snowshoes after our last trip when we realized the amazing experience of our first foray into a winter wonderland. This day was quiet. The crowds that we had experienced on the weekend was diminished. It wasn't that we were alone but it was solitary at times. My mind was as busy as my body. Eyes open with wonder at this world covered with snow. The quiet invading my soul as my breathing was all that I could hear. During the flat stretches we talked with each other about the thoughts that fleeted around our minds, but during the climbs we placed our heads down, carefully choosing our steps and using our poles, every ten steps pausing to catch our breath. The clouds growing darker and darker but very little wind. We reached the area of our last lunch break and decided to keep going just a little farther. Finally I couldn't make it anymore and we found a sheltered area to have lunch. John unrolled our sleeping pad that we use to insulate us from the cold of the snow. Homemade bread that morning was the base of our sandwiches and hot apple cider warmed our insides. It was quiet. I looked around seeing a dog in the distance obviously waiting for his master and then his owner came out of the woods, and the dog was off again running ahead and then waiting in a crouch. We continued on cresting the ridge expecting the chill of the wind but it was quiet and pleasant instead. It wasn't much farther but the clouds were decidedly darker almost ominous and we bantered about the storm and the probability of the camp robbers making an appearance at the top of Artist Point. We top the ridge and two other couples were just about to have lunch. They pulled their food out and within seconds the camp robbers were boldly making their presence known by doing flybys and landing on trekking poles. I pulled out our sliced apples and they boldly landed on our hands as we placed large chunks of apples in our palms. They were light, barely even placing any weight on our hands. Within minutes they would rest there 10 to 20 seconds before flying off with their treat to stash it someplace before returning and begging for more. And then it was time for us to return and make our way down the mountain and back to our vehicle and our life full of schedules and responsibilities but for those few hours it was quiet, solitary and for me refreshing and reconnecting with my husband.