Dawn came late one morning. The air was chilly as the Old Couple peeled back the layers of quilts. The Old Woman ran her hand over the mended hole she'd finally managed to fix last fall. She slowly swung her legs over the side of her bed, eased on her slippers, and padded over to the Old Man. She helped him out of bed even more slowly and steadily. They gritted their teeth against pain, against time, against stiffness. They were here--in winter--in their ninth decade of their lives. They set their jaws against these facts and continued getting out of bed, visiting the bathroom, making their way down the steep staircase to the kitchen. They inched into the kitchen stiffly standing up and stepping closer to one another for support. They gazed out the window to assess how much snow had fallen and saw, gazing back at them, a wall of animals--deer, bucks, squirrels, owls, raccoons, crows, foxes and coyote. They all were there and they bowed their heads and the Old Couple bowed in return. They had done their work. The winter was cold. The Old Couple’s seasons were coming to an end. They smiled with hope. They knew they did what they could do before the story ended.