As soon as I step outside, the icy picturesque blinds me. I inhale deeply, my lungs filling with cool, crisp air. Tall, naked trees hang low with white snow.
I look up, and notice long dagger-like icicles glaring threateningly down at me. A blanket of snow coats the once blooming ground, preserving the lush greenery for spring.
Suddenly, the icy breath of Boreas punishingly whips against my face, nearly turning it the same shade of red as my bright, red coat.
I briskly scurry to the forest, leavings a trail of footprints behind. Finding some shelter amongst the trees against the wind, I slow my pace and inspect my surroundings.
Tall, peeling birch trees stretch high up, trying to match the great white pine in height, but to no avail.
A crunch sounds as a white-tailed deer treads through the snow, searching fervently for a clump of vegetation. A ground squirrel pops out of a hole in the ground, momentarily surprising me.
As soon as he notices my presence, his tail puffs up twice its size and he darts back into his shelter like an arrow.
Finally, the wind calms. Like an angel descending from Heaven, snow begins to gracefully fall from the white, cloudy sky.
Unique crystals coat any foliage or tree branch that hasn’t already been covered with the soft substance. A feeling of serenity falls over the land.
How is there so much beauty in this wintry place? The prints of a snowshoe hare trail towards the thicker part of the forest as the creature made his way home.
I pass a large isolated tree, standing tall and proud with his branches stretching wide.
Up ahead, an opening appears. Before I come closer, I can already see the enormous lake that the forest surrounds.
I emerge from the trees, startling a poor chickadee from its feast on a spider. Ice reaches out as far as I can see, trapping the water underneath it.
In the distance, ice fisherman stare intently into their holes, tirelessly waiting for a fish to swim by. An eagle soars high overhead, his keen eyes scanning for prey.
I tentatively step onto the ice, abandoning my shelter next to the trees. Due to the snow, I do not slip. A sound like thunder rings out across the lake as ice cracks nearby.
A vacant fishing hole catches my eye, and I peer into it, careful not to step in it.
Through the crystal clear water, I can see lake weed swaying calmly down below, protecting its inhabitants from prying eyes.
The wind picks up again, and like the snowshoe hare, I decide to head home. I go back through the forest, and the snow begins to fall harder.
I see no trace of the hare tracks, but I pass the large tree, and I know I am not lost. Finally, my home appears, and I enter it quickly.
I make myself a cup of hot cocoa, its contents warming my body. After I defrost, I look out the window, and realize that winter is just as beautiful on the inside as it is on the outside.