SKIP ADVERTISEMENT You have been granted access, use your keyboard to continue reading. During the past several weeks, the ground in Bethany, Conn., where I live, has been pocked with wildlife tracks, a ledger of activity made visible by snow. Unlike last year, when hardly a flake fell or stuck, this year we wake to white drifts and forecasts of more on the way. Significant snowfall arrives overnight into days as hushed as prayer.