<正>One evening I look out the window of my secluded cabin, and there are soft languid flakes falling in the golden lamplight. They fall all night, while the voice of the Teal River becomes more and more hushed and the noises of the forest die away. By dawn, the whole world of stream and wood and mountain has been kindled to a white flame of beauty.I go out in the early morning and there is such silence that even breath is a profanation. The mountain to the north has a steel-blue light on it, and to the west the sky still holds something of the darkness of the night. To the east and the south a faint pink is spreading. I look up and see the morning star keeping white watch over a white world.Soon the whole sky is azure and flaming. Every branch of every tree is weighted with cold and stillness; every stump is crowned with crystal; every fallen log is overlaid with silver. The wild berry bushes have puffballs of jeweler’s cotton here and there along their branches, and the stark roots of hemlocks and cedars h