Small little flakes falling down, gently stinging the eyes and making squinting both necessary and difficult. You can barely see through the white powder, though the cars on the street are sliding treacherously. The cold as you inhale is crisp, and makes noise twinge and delight in the freshness of new scent, filling the lungs with a beautiful bite. You stick out your tongue, and though it never works as well as it does in the movies, it still tastes fresh and delightful. As the tiny stingers are blown into your skin by the wind, the peaceful quiet surrounds you, filling you with only your own thoughts and ideas, flying like flakes in your mind, swirling around before landing gently and leaving a simple tranquility that defies negativity. Fluffy whiteness, a pillow of cold; the world around a new canvas.