Frozen

I woke up feeling perfectly warm. I sighed, nestling further into my fuzzy blanket. As I inhaled, I could smell the chill in the air—that crisp, clear scent that’s impossible to describe. 

I sat up and looked out my window. The world was dusted with white. 

I gasped and reached out to touch the glass. A shiver ran up my spine. As I drew my hand away, it left a mark on the glass that faded a moment later. I couldn’t quite believe that all of the movies and pictures had depicted a northern winter so accurately. Snow clung to the branches of the trees, though patches of dark green still peeked through. The lake was frozen over and the sun glistened off of the ice. 

Grabbing my blanket, I wrapped it around myself to create a little cocoon and simply watched the idyllic scene for a while. However, the excitement continued to grow within me until I could no longer simply observe the scene; I had to be a part of it. 

I threw off the blanket and grabbed my coat and boots, running straight out into the snow. 

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Originally published on my site The Story Canvas

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash