Writing portfolio 2.4

Suck in a Blizzard

It is snowing. The weather. The word “blizzard” barley seems suitable for what the world displays outside. The snow settles thick. It smothers anything that could stay still long enough, even pasting travellers lose their bearings completely as the beast that we call whether slowly blinds them. Hypnotically pretty on its own, until it turns into a rocket that shoots at any undefended open skin. The sky stays the same colour, night, or day. It has none of the colours that should be in the sky at dusk. Like a black and white photo, it framed old, spooky, and lifeless.

Listen. The sounds. The sounds could have petrified everything. That infused with the hurricane winds made it feel like a living force creeping over me like some starved monster, engulfing the living, holding it captive. The wind never picked up, nor did it die down. It was like a constant energy source that could not be contained. constantly charging. It gently shook the trees. Like a wolf, it howled across the blanketed expanse. echoing. Creating every other sound to seem less intense.

Breath. The smells. You’d never image there being a sent for snow. The sort of dry, cold, sent you get on a cold winters morning. The swirling storm of screeching white took over all the moisture left. It sucked the breath from the trees that were covered head to toe in confetti. The smells were so crisp that it cut any exposed skin. It craves for that very thing.

Look. The the usual land marks and signs are buried by the new silver coat. The world begins to erase. everything seemed to disappear faster by the minute. The snowflakes fall bigger and faster now. The life that had once been in the forest had completely faded. The trees didn’t sway, they simple stood still. The sky. It begins to fall into a gloomy shade. The clouds merged into one thick puddle of air. The snow still falling. Biting, stinging, sharp, bitter wind. The look of snow, even the thought, is paralysingly beautiful. The feeling is far from that.

It all happened a couple years ago. You were traveling in the winter so every day it was snowing. Nothing was prepared for the weather that was about to take over the beautiful, fresh winter you had come for. The winter you remembered. not being frightened, nor scared. The feeling that you absorbed that day was far from any phrase. Swallowing the very fear you had, you pushed through the vast emptiness of cold. you wanted to run to safety. you truely did. But your very legs did not allow the movement meant for running. Every small breath you took into your lungs made you somehow weaker. The cold had completely swept over your mussels. You lay down to the sound of soft wind, the sound of the trees. eyes became heaver. Calm. Peaceful. Quiet. Delicate. Suddenly the world became beautiful again, as your eyes became completely closed shut.