The plane landed on the simple runway, Lin Yu'an declined Hank's offer to ride the snowmobile to send him home.
"No, Hank. I want to walk this last stretch myself."
"I understand." Hank smiled knowingly, "Go, your family is waiting for you."
Lin Yu'an carried his backpack and stepped, one foot deep, one foot shallow, on the familiar snowy path towards the depths of the forest, to the home he had been away from for nearly two months, moving step by step.
The closer he got, the slower his steps became. The emotions of near-home apprehension were vividly present at this moment.
Finally, he walked through the last small grove of spruce trees, and there stood the forest cabin he had built with his own hands, filled with love and memories, quietly under the aurora not far away.
The roof was covered with thick snow, and from the gigantic stone chimney, warm white smoke curled upward. Clearly, someone was home, and the fireplace was burning brightly.
