This is just something I wrote because the snow's just fallen and I've always found it beautiful. Any constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated.
The first snow fell yesterday. I remembered how much you loved it when it blanketed the world, enchanted it. I once found the silence of winter eerie, too quiet out here in the country where there are no cars, skyscrapers, or people. You used to laugh when I would sit indoors, complaining that it should always be spring.
You were different. You grew up with the cold winters, felt the life in them where I felt only the cold and the dark. I still recall with fondness the first day you showed me why you loved this time of year. You had taken me up the mountain and shown me the white fields that stretched for miles. It shone like diamonds under the sun, silencing me. It was breathtaking.
“I’ve always loved the winter,” you said later that night. We were sitting together by the fire, your lips were pressing gently against the rim of the mug you held to them. The steam rose up to meet your rosy cheeks, and the flames lit up your long golden locks as they flickered. “It’s as if it arrives and erases everything wrong in the world, cleansing it all. I always feel alive after the first fall of snow, as if it has wrapped itself around me and healed my wounds.” You blushed after that; I could tell even though your cheeks were already cherry in colour. I think that was when I fell in love with you, though I’m not sure what it was.
My bones ache now as I grow older, and the cold seems to bring the pain to the very core. Each year seems a lonely one, stretching on for what seems an eternity. Not a day goes by I don’t wish you were here to warm my soul as you always did. I never could tolerate the winter very well, being from warmer places. The first snow fall makes me yearn for you, for warmer seasons.
Yet I stay in this house, this home, where together we raised our children and made our life. I do not leave the valley where our modest farm house is nestled at the foot of the mountains. Each and every winter I still climb to the peak of the mountain where we would go arm in arm and watch the snow fall upon our life together.
I can feel the life in the winter now, as you once did; I feel your hand sweep softly upon my cheek when the cold air blows across my skin, and when the wind howls through the trees on the mountain, I hear your voice, whispering to me. I no longer find it too quiet or lonely in the winter, for in its beauty I feel you beside me, waiting patiently for my final season to end.
Please leave feedback! I'd really love up hear more opinions!
