The cold bitter frost bites at me from the

snow-covered wonderland outside of my window,

The trees reflect sunlight from their crystallized

branches that hang lowly to the ground,

The ground in a thick blanket of fluffy, white snow,

And small, beautiful snowflakes descend from the sky

With winter comes two joys;                                                               

big sweatshirts,

sweatpants,

fuzzy socks,

and slippers

with a mug of warm hazelnut coffee

all while cuddled in mountains of pillows and blankets

with a warm fire near by;

the inside beauty of the harsh cold

But the other joy includes going to the mountain,

getting on my board

and losing myself in the whispers of the snow,

the cold means comfort