The soft and silky cold air drifted in from the nearby frigid window. The air smelled ancient and all knowing but at the same time, new and crisp. The broad smell of pine awoke my senses and burned my tired eyes. My joints ached and groaned as I begrudgingly dragged myself out of the warm fuzzy sheets that smelled faintly of burning embers. I willingly sat and stared out into the white kingdom guarded by tall green and brown giants. A perfectly round frosty window framed the almost perfect painting of the great expanse of the ancient, but ever growing, forest. A faint crow cawing signaled my cue to rise and start my morning routine as I drifted from my humble bed and into a day of long work.

     The stairs cried as I drug my cold feet across the dark brown wood. Various paintings and cryptic black and white photos clouded my vision as I flew down the stairs in desperate escape from the cold. The tall cabin walls held so much culture and released a booming crack often. Those great walls were a home for various shaped windows that held a perfect picture for the army of trees that watched and judged your every movement. My feet were given sweet release when they melted into the warm rug that was flat from so many trips up and down the wide staircase. The rugged and worn skin rug so warm it seemed to scorch my bare feet. The rug still cooling from the roaring fire that burned and danced all night until it receded and diminished into nothing but embers. The fire that once crackled and spit into sensitive eyes. The view of the fresh, thick, white blanket protecting the trees from the cold was a stark contrast to the unforgiving memory of the roaring fire.

     The crystal clear sliding door seemed to be the only wall of separation between the new world and the long forgotten one. A deep yearn urged me to place my already cold hand on the bitter glass. The sensation was bone chilling, but yet delicate and heartwarming almost as if the sleet on the window was begging for my to get impossibly closer. The intimidating forest seemed to exhale with me as I stared into the shadowy expanse. The thick wood whispered to break down that wall and walk the long path into what seemed like it faded into nothing. I had no choice but to oblige as I opened that door and stepped into the snow and fierce wind that slammed into my sensitive face and attacked my already burning eyes.I trudged through the thick yet soft snow to place my hands on the bright red railing that was yet another barrier between me and the creatures that lurked in the brush. The brittle wooden panels whined in protest as I leaned over the fence and peered at the plane below me. I observed the shrubbery that was nothing but bone and grass that had receded until spring. The brilliant white that concealed the dirt floor gave no scent, but still cherished the memories of long and dreary winter nights that left myself thinking nothing but old haunting folk lores and flickering candle light that chased the darkness away, beating the shadows into submission.. 

    The harsh cold turned to crystals on my damp skin, turning my nail beds into a frightening blue. The frigid wind seemed to push and shove me to start my work. My daily work of breaking the ice in the trough that seemed to grin as I painfully stabbed at the ice, shoveling mounds of snow that made my feet sore and stiff, and feeding the shivering animals. I heavily walked down the steps with a heavy pain in my chest and roaring in my ears. Almost as if the souls borrowing in the dead brush were laughing and teasing at my agony as I walked into the battlefront of shrubs and towering trees. The snow tugged my feet deeper and deeper as I made my trek down to that familiar dirt path and towards the long awaited forest .