A dusting of newly fallen snow skittered and slid across the icy surface, skating in unison with the northerly wind.

The path beside Ice House Pond lay softly muted in the failing purple light of dusk. The falling snow added sparkle to the tranquil December scene.

Feeling slightly like an intruder in this world of serenity and understated beauty, I followed the path as it wound along the frozen shore. Past white birches, sentinel-like in the gathering darkness; by hemlocks dark and brooding; careful not to disturb the slumbering blueberry bushes as they rested in preparation for next season’s productivity.

And here, near the end of the path stood a stately spruce, probably planted long ago by some now forgotten ice cutter. I have reached the destination of this evening’s sojourn into the snowy woods.

Majestic in its height, the shapely tree stood tall above its surrounding neighbors. The rising moon and the twinkly stars were an appropriate backdrop to the tree’s fullness. I stopped beneath the fragrant boughs a while to rest; the softly falling snow the only sound to reach my ears. From within my jacket I removed a small notebook, and by the light of the rising moon I reviewed the Outdoor Notebook Christmas wish list for this year.

For all the anglers, whatever their persuasion, I wish for you, great days on the water and tight lines with just the right offering on the business end. To those that pursue the brawny bass, may all their days be spent in secret coves wherein lurk monster bucketmouths eager to destroy a plug.

Trout anglers, my wish for you is bright, clean waters, adventures beyond every end in the stream and rainbows over your shoulder as well as on your line. For the saltwater enthusiasts, I wish perfect tides, baitfish a plenty and a strong run of early spring fish to test their mettle.

And to those that just plain fish for the sheer joy of the experience, I guess you have it all figured out and only need the wish of luck. For the fish out there, I wish you catch and release so as to continue the tradition generations old between man and his finned adversary.

For my hunting brethren, I offer many wishes, but none more fervent than the continuation of the tradition by educating those that would oppose us. Light tracking snow for the deer hunter and unerring accuracy with your shot. A steady hand and keen eyes, a sharp mind and meat on the table.

To those that ‘slob’ up the sport, I wish that you would take up cellar dwelling on another planet. You’re not welcome on this list.

Golden autumn days, picture perfect points by your canine partner and birds that hold tight would be the ideal wish of anyone who goes upland hunting. Fast flushes, strong flyers and just the right amount of lead to cleanly dispatch your bag limit seems like a nice gift to put in one’s stocking. To the waterfowler, I wish leaden heavy skies, chilled rain on your face, and flights that do their part when you do yours. To all of you who revel in the romance of the autumn flights, I wish for eternal skies with the sound of Canada geese calling as they pass overhead.

And the best wish of all – lasting companionship and an abundance of memorable days afield to hold you over through the long months between seasons.

To all who enjoy a day in the woods or a hiking adventure as you follow a gurgling brook, I wish you an inborn sense of direction. Nothing is more embarrassing or potentially dangerous than being lost out there. And to all those who are lost and can’t find their way in the day-to-day jungle safari that we all too often find ourselves in, I wish you guidance and a shining light to show you the way. May the heavens above guide your footsteps as you seek your path through the every day journey between here and there.

Darkness had slowly settled in and the pages of the notebook were no longer readable. The moon had risen higher in the evening sky, and from my vantage point it seemed to touch the spruce and hang suspended from a branch. The evening stars were out in full display overhead. One particularly bright one caught my eyes. It sat directly at the top of my Christmas spruce, winking and sparkling in all its natural wonder. A fitting top for a special tree and a special night for mankind to hold in wonder.

I stood and gazed at the scene before me, struck by the beauty and simplicity. I turned to start for home, the impact of what I had seen etched clearly in my mind, but I have one last wish to offer. Peace and understanding to all on this special eve, and for all the evenings yet to come.

Gordon Lewis can be reached at moonglowfarm@gmail.com.