At least this year there was the grey sprinkle, better than nothing. And the gift he most wished for on his birthday was something nobody could give him: it was snow, beautiful, deep, blanketing snow, and it never came. 'I wish it would snow properly.' 'And your birthday tomorrow.' 'Mmm.' He had been going to say that too, but it would have been too much like a reminder. All the broad sky was grey, full of more snow that refused to fall. Further back there were only the flat fields of Dawsons' Farm, dimly white-striped. That wide grey sweep was the lawn, with the straggling trees of the orchard still dark beyond the white squares were the roofs of the garage, the old barn, the rabbit hutches, the chicken coops. The snow lay thin and apologetic over the world. You'd think this house was big enough, but there's always people.' They both looked out of the window. And Mary joining in, twitter twitter, twitter. 'I could hear all the yelling,' he said, chin on knees. Will put aside his book and pulled up his legs to make room. Just too many.' James stood fuming on the landing like a small angry locomotive, then stumped across to the window-seat and stared out at the garden.
'Too many kids in this family, that's what. Part One: The Finding Midwinter's Eve Midwinter Day The Sign-seeker The Walker on the Old Way Part Two: The Learning Christmas Eve The Book of Gramarye Betrayal Christmas Day Part Three: The Testing The Coming of the Cold The Hawk in the Dark The King of Fire and Water The Hunt Rides The Joining of the Signs Part One: The Finding Midwinter's Eve 'Too many!' James shouted, and slammed the door behind him.
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