Mates

In the fading glow of a late winter afternoon, the fields lay cloaked in a fresh dusting of snow. The world held its breath in the gentle hush that only newly falling snow can bring. A lazy sun dropped behind approaching winter storm clouds, casting a blue hue over the endless stretch of white. Along an old fence line, barely visible beneath the drifts, a pair of snowy owls perched, their feathers blending seamlessly into their frosty surroundings. The fence was a mere outline, a relic of times past, dividing expanses of land that seemed halfway to nowhere.