An Abyss of White

I walk outside, close the door behind me, step off of the front porch, and stand on top of the soft ground beneath my snowshoes. It is cold, but I am warm from the soft, thick layers of my pajamas - my bottoms tucked into my boots. I tighten the tie from my robe around my waist then look up at the landscape surrounding me.

The world has changed color. All of the vivid hues of fall - oranges, reds, yellows, and browns - have vanished into a pure, soft white. Cold, silent, motionless. The air is crisp, the ground is shimmering with the light from the warm street lamps. My mind, just like the Earth, is frozen. It is almost as if time itself is frozen. Worries have disappeared and what I believe to be peace has emerged. The inner tranquility resulting from the silence is almost unfathomable. The only sound is my heartbeat, which seems to resonate throughout the open space within my mind. I begin to smell the smoke of a warm fire from the house nearby. This smell, one I am quite familiar with, carries with it nostalgia from my past.

-

I can taste the burnt marshmallows and melted chocolate. The sounds of laughter and fellowship fill my mind - the comfort of family and friends. I can feel all of the soft, heavy layers against my skin. These are what keep me warm.

I can smell the crisp morning air. It is Christmas morning. The world is still dark, but the house is illuminated by cream-colored Christmas lights and glowing-red candy canes. I know in just a matter of hours my family and I will be sitting around the table eating mom’s freshly made cinnamon rolls.

I can hear the sound of the crackling fire. We all sit inside, covered by blankets and sipping hot chocolate, as the blustery world stays just outside of our windows. It is warm until you stand next to the icy glass, where you become grateful for its protection.

I can see my neighbors approaching from down the solemn street - I just know they are going to ask to have a snowball fight. We have them every winter.

-

My reminiscence is interrupted by a snowflake landing on my nose. It is cold and leaves my nose wet. I cross my eyes and see it sparkling as it reflects the light of the moon. More come down from the endless abyss above me. My arms extend forward, then my head tilts up. My eyes close, then my lips close. Forming a soft smile, my cheeks lift ever so slightly. I cannot recall a moment more peaceful than this. It’s as if the world itself is frozen in motion. Could it be that I have somehow found myself inside of a snowglobe? It just appears as though these magical moments only happen in stories, pictures, or songs. But to experience it for yourself, in person, is surreal. Truly surreal.

This place - whether it be my imagination or reality - is one I wish to stay in forever. I do not want to leave the quiet. I do not want to leave the peace. While I know I cannot stay in this place forever, it is one I intend to hold on to so long as I live. If I cannot physically stay here, I will cherish it in my memory.

I open my eyes once more, directing my gaze towards the open field in front of me.

An abyss of white.

I take a final breath, then drop my gaze to my feet - they are buried in the snow. I step back, slowly turning myself towards the big blue door with a giant Christmas wreath hanging on it. Once I reach the porch, I shake the magic off my boots, sigh, and place my hand on the icy metal door knob and, with a twist, make my way back inside the realm of reality.