Mouse as plow

With the cold came a fresh coating of snow, about two inches of bone-dry powder, and after the skies cleared, the temperature took a nose-dive. It was zero when I got up at daybreak, and I had a sneaking suspicion that I wasn't going to see much on my walk. In fact, I was thinking that maybe I'd stay inside. I didn't, and I was rewarded for my efforts with a stunning blank white canvas on which mammals and birds had written the stories of their overnight activities. A mouse told me a surprising tale. Usually, small rodents stick to trails under the snow and only surface for the briefest of times. It's safer that way. But, perhaps because the snow was so light, this mouse had no choice but to plow through the blanket—literally. The trail ran a good ten yards and exposed the small animal to all kinds of night terrors: owls in the air; foxes, coyotes, weasels, and maybe a feral cat or two on the ground. Somehow, the mouse ran... well, plowed... the gauntlet and reached the safe harbor of the rock wall.