The Snow Fell

There was a sound of the snow falling on snow. White blending with white, trees reaching up to catch each flake, one by one. The snow falling on snow sounded like a whisper from the center of the universe. Clear, like a whisper blended with a faint musical hum, the Universe was trying to give me a clue, and the snow was the messenger. The air was clear and dry, sharp like a knife, but gentle like a magician doing a knife trick. Under my feet the snow would crunch, and that crunching sound would mingle with the hum and the whispers to form the natural rhythm of winter.

The Snow Fell

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