Late on a November night in northern Maine, the snow began to fall. Silent as the deer huddled in the woods, it filled the nooks between the rocks and trees, covered the leaves and pine needles that lay on the ground, and weighted branches until they hung low. Bushes became ghostly white shapes looming in the dark forest. Rosie woke at five as usual. She stretched out in bed, yawning. The windowpanes of her room were black before sunrise, but she could see something light moving behind them. She peered out and whistled. Must be a foot of snow already! No school! She watched the falling flakes for a moment, trying to guess how deep the snow lay on the ground. It looked like a blizzard, a white-out, which meant she couldn't see through it. Her Frisian horse, Hendrik was 7 months old. He had never seen snow. It would be fun to show him this cold, soft stuff. Hendrik had grown a good, thick coat for the Maine winter. He would love snow!