She held his hand hard in hers for a second, then left him to take a nap while she washed the dishes and then lay down on the couch beside his chair with a pillow under her head. From there she could see the dying fire and, through the window at the side, the soft white curtains of snow falling now incessantly, thick and fast. Could Ed have been right that this wouldn’t last? It held a sort of forever in it. It might never stop, she fantasied, and the old Ark be slowly covered up, buried under this soft wool, this whiteness, this wonder.

Meanwhile, as long as it lasted, they were in a timeless place.

CHRISTINA’S JOURNAL—December 5

Ed was wrong. We have had more than two feet, and we heard the plows roaring by early this morning. Woke to a world of pure magic, dazzling sunlight, the mountain standing up there, bright dark-blue, with an air of great distinction. The pines are suffering—some branches have come down. Otherwise it is just pure beauty, that made Cornelius gasp when he opened his eyes, late this morning, and say, “Not bad, is it?”—an understatement of massive proportions. We are snowed in!

The phone began to ring by late morning, and I realized in a new way what this little thread between the hills and woods does to bring everyone close. Hannah called first for Jane, to see whether we were all right; then Ellen, bless her heart, to say that Nick would be up as soon as the road up the hill was clear, and would be glad to shovel out. That is a relief, I must say, as my darned old knee has seemed a little worse. Cornelius has invented a way of getting downstairs, putting most of his weight on the banister, so we can manage I’m sure, but it is wonderful to feel the dear concern and care of all the neighbors. I have such praise and blessing in my heart today for all this winter is. If only Cornelius can feel a little better! But whatever happens we shall have had this, and no one can take it away. As I write that, I am aware how often in the last years we have been pulled apart or distracted from the only really important thing—or so it now seems.