Journal #21

The blank slate of white pureness covered the land. It was untouched and beautiful as the sun rose that beautiful morning. The world was quiet on the seventh day of the week, for no one was up early for work or other alternate things one would need to attend to. The first child that saw the beauty was wide eyed to the blank slate of which he knew he could enjoy. The trees were covered with white fluff and shook because of its bitter cold, or maybe just because of the light breeze running over its body. No blade of grass was in sight nor a leaf on a branch. The beauty of the dancing snow flakes in the air was like a ballet show. They twirled right and left and around the world below as it fell to the bottom. It landing beautifully without a clash, bang, or sound of any kind. It was soft and innocent without any intention of harm. It gave life to the dead world around it that had been stripped away of its beauty by the cold that came before it. When the sun hit the flakes it turned into glitter and shined everywhere. The shower of glitter feel into piles and soon enough the children were make balls and throwing it in the air without a care in the world. These children filled with pure joy raced down the hills on their sleds and toboggans. Those who were to scared to ride the hill made beautiful white men with coal eyes and carrot noses. The happy smiles of the snowmen were unfailing, along with the children who created them. Parents called to their children to come in for lunch in the warm hot chocolate. Even as they all left the glittered snow trampled and balled up, it was still as beautiful as ever. It was tinted but still its pureness was evident. That was something that was unfailing no matter how many little feet and hands were to play with it.