there's music out there

Have you heard the snow?

Drank its waters from the ice hole four feet deep?

There’s clarity to this element, gentleness in feather-falling flakes that drift effortlessly.

I anticipate the taste of each individual snowflake, as my tongue twists upwards to catch each one. The crunch of hardened snow beneath gives way in unpredictable moments unseen to the eye.

This is my walk to work, up snow banks and down snow drifts. Each step a boot imprint to show I was here.

Rabbit and fox tracks litter and skitter left and right. A dog whines and howls in the near distance. The stars sparkle brighter than the new satellite orbiting this tiny speck of a place.

Air huddles on my eyelashes, coating them with the finest frost. I blink rapidly so they don’t stick together; giggle at how I must look.

Upon inhaling, I can feel the pure air pierce my lungs with such a sharpness that I crave more and less instantaneously. It seeps into my bloodstream and invigorates my being. My organs work harder to heat up my body. My hands clench and release in sealskin mitts. I wiggle my toes in clunky boots. I move like the wind that scatters the snow. We are both trying to avoid freezing in stillness.

A raven donned in pitch black caws my arrival.

A symphony plays below my feet. With each step I think about how there are endless sounds to endless snowflakes. And I am grateful for this music.