White. Flashing before me between every rapid blink, the woods were a tapestry of glaring brightness, the colorless sky a backdrop as the frosty wind sent whorls of sparkly snow spiraling towards my face. I shuffled through the snow drifts, huffing, and slouched on the lone boulder outcropping that seemed to glow in the singular square of milky sunlight. I’d been trudging through the thicket for all of 5 minutes before the snow soaked through the cuffs of my jeans and left bands of purple around my shins, while the wind continued to batter me from all sides. The skin on my face was stretched taut, my lips were chapped and peeling, and I was thoroughly convinced that my nose had all but turned into solid ice when I finally gave up my futile attempt to reach the pond alone.
Through the fringes of my snow-coated lashes, I squinted at the scene splayed out before me. Crouched there, swallowed in my dad’s parka, I couldn’t help but feel like a figurine forged in confectioner’s sugar atop a dazzling pastry - every surface was evenly caked with fresh snow, each individual flake trapping a fractal of light, and effectively icing the entire landscape in glittering ivory. Even the spindly branches, glazed in powdered sugar, appeared to be an intricate web of chocolate drizzle as they swum in and out of focus, warping with the gusts of wind. But every wheezing breath filled my chest with shrapnels of ice and grated on my throat as I exhaled, leaving my lungs burning for more oxygen. Each gasp produced pretty wisps of fog that momentarily obstructed my view before dissipating to reveal the acres of porcelain. Mesmerized by the raw and untainted beauty of my surroundings, I reached out and touched a lump of the snowy frosting with a glove-tipped finger, only for it to melt on contact, baring the brown bough beneath. I recoiled my hand immediately, and a dark realization struck me. Despite how exceptional, flawless, or indestructibly limitless an entity of beauty seems to be - all forms of apparent perfection and beauty are only fleeting. Beauty, like the crystalline snow, must ultimately dissolve to reveal its often dark and chipped foundation. This can unfortunately be observed in a multitude of aspects in the world around us, for example - for people, physical beauty fades with age, an optimistic attitude sours with experience, and even the most spirited among us eventually wilt under the onslaught of societal expectations. A shiver creeped up my spine and I shook my head, dispelling such despondent thoughts. I leaned back, arching towards the dwindling rays of light as the sun crawled across the horizon.
My eyes wandered upward and surveyed the labyrinthine roof of interwoven branches, until my gaze snagged on a stunning sight. A spider web caught within a shaft of icicles glinted in the dilapidated sunshine as it funneled through the branches, the gossamer of spun sugar encased in a lattice of frozen lace. Pearls of condensation beaded the edges of this contraption, each a perfect orb suspended at the tip of the icicle, with a distorted copy of the surrounding world trapped within its circumference. My mind wandered once more to a decrepit line of thought. The droplets seemed to remind me of my plight - caged in the confines of a small dome, with limited scope to explore or escape. A dome wherein the rules of the world around me are ever-changing at alarming rates - rippling, distorting and bending on the whims of an algorithm I can never crack. My life was akin to this bubble, glimmering in light externally, but internally warped and topsy-turvy and entirely encrusted with uncertainty and confusion.
I took another deep breath, bolted upright and attempted to rub some circulation back into my legs, and turned around slowly on my heel, entranced by my shimmering corner of this winter wonderland. Unable to shake my craving for hot chocolate, a fleece blanket, and a Disney movie, I hauled myself towards the golden warmth of my house - nursing my spirits, as they had fallen prey to the cold, unforgiving talons of winter.