

The snow crunches beneath my feet. The forest is dark. Night is upon us and the white antiseptic light from the moon filters through the evergreens that surround me. Each breath fills me with life. The brisk awakening feeling that happens when you breath that fresh cold air after the snow has fallen. Moving through the forest shadows dance all around. The moonlight and the shadows swing and dance in a ballet that is too beautiful for words. The snow continues to crunch under my feet. Exhaling I can see my breath floating upwards in the moonlight. The sky is completely and utterly devoid of clouds. It almost seems unnatural. The millions of stars that can be seen flicker and pulse in a symphony of light that almost looks like a sea of diamonds. I enter the clearing that I have come upon and slowly look around at the darkness that sits in the forest trees. The contrast is indescribable. The clearing seems a giant bowl of milk. It is almost too bright to look at. The night is silent... it always is. We are the ones that most of the time cannot hear the peaceful silence. We are the ones that cannot see the beauty of the velvet blue black that covers the earth when it sleeps. The silence is complimented only by the soft sound of the wind from the valley nearby. It blows cold upon my face. It seems as if all has been frozen. Winter is really a magical time of year. If nothing else it tells us that we are alive and can feel. It tells us that beauty still exists, notwithstanding the fact that man does all he can to destroy that beauty. When the next snow falls, go outside. Go somewhere there is no one and enjoy the show. Enjoy the symphony that plays notes that we can only begin to appreciated with the most human of senses, but somehow touches something deeper within us. The beauty that cannot be appreciated fully with the eyes, nor the ears, nor the skin. It can only be fully appreciated with the heart.
Labels: Snow, Winter, Writing