Pushed up a steep hill by encroaching cold, and left to freeze in the frigid wind, a tone has set in.
The thick ice packs the scenery dense and snow blindness makes traveling hard.

The year ended, but the blizzard didn't.

We walked our journeys, smothered in the wraps of arctic explorers, grimacing secretly beneath, as snow covered our tracks and hats, hiding us from history and each other. We reached the frozen van and tried at its handles to gain shelter. The doors were stuck fast and the wheels were deep in. I pried the shovel from the street gritter and set to work.

The prettiest things happen at the worst times.