Uncle Nickolas had returned from his long winter journey;
it was a cold winter night.
We snuggled under warm blankets,
sipping hot cocoa,
munching ginger snaps.
A fire blazed, the candles flickered, all was quiet.
Uncle Nickolas had often told us forest stories.
A silent tree falling;
robins snoring;
owls watching through the night.
As we peered through the windows,
we asked Uncle Nickolas,
who walks in the forest when we don’t?