He swung the axe, eventually knocking the first young birch down. It hit the ground with an appreciable ‘whump’, driving up the snow around him. As he wiped it off his face, rubbing the flakes in his gloved fingers and watching the rest fall silently back to Earth, he slowly noticed that it wasn't stopping. He looked up. Several clouds had rolled in, the snow falling sparsely but lightly. It was time to head home while he could still see the way back.