ON THIS SUNDAY AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES the grounds are wrapped in cotton batting. The sounds of the world all seem soft and far away. Even the brash laughter of the crimson-capped Pileated Woodpecker is muffled. The first real snowstorm of the season has left the forest changed. Some of the big pines here have seen 120 winters, so this is nothing new to them. The Chickadees and Nuthatches and Bluejays all understand, as do deer and squirrels and foxes and cottontails, leaving their tracks upon the trails. And for a Caretaker recovering from eye surgery, it is good to see it all. The congregation of our humble church all wish you Good Sabbath…