The air is cool.
I breathe in, and immediately
The smell of pine fills my lungs,
I breathe out,
Leaving a cool
Almost peppermint taste on my tongue.

Past the pine trees,
That stand as tall towers,
Past the deep green color that paints the dark brown branches.
I see, a once bright blue sky,
Has become a grey white shade.

All I can hear is the wind,
The soft whistle of air moving quickly past me
It pounds while doing so,
Pounds on the drums of my ears,
Loudly.
All of this accompanied by flecks of
Pure white.
The soft snowflakes landing on my skin,
Each one with its own unique shape,
I finally feel at peace.