Winter: Part 1
When the air is really cold the snow packed beneath your feet squeaks like a fresh bunch of asparagus you squeeze in the grip of your hand. Each step crunches and squeaks. Crunch, squeak, crunch, squeak, crunch, squeak. And all the while the world around you seems to exist in some sort of vacuum. The air you breathe isn’t actually there. The sun-suffused snow pains your eyes. In the middle of winter you know it’s going to be a bitch of a day when the sun shines so bright—there’s no water in the air except for the grains of ice and snow that the shameless wind kicks at your legs and face like sand on a windy beach.
mckenzie malanaphy 
Do tell.