Walking home from the hospital on my last day in Goose Bay. Crunch under my boots, packed but deep white snow from the plows. Silence around my ears, cloaked by my hat and hood. Crinkling snow pants. Slow cars driving past. Snow machine tracks. Short fir trees masked by snow drifts. An old suburban parked outside Home Hardware, running, steaming, no one inside. Warm hands in mittens stuffed in pockets, walking slowly, pulling each boot out of the snow one at a time.