January first, 

finally the Celtic fiddle sent waves of music into the atmosphere while spreading prosperity into the New Year. 

Snow fell from the sky forming a white blanket upon the open field. 

She knelt down slowly, gently pressing her palm into the cold, dense snow. 

The cold made her feel powerful. 

She took a handful of snow, lifting it to her face, admiring the faint sparkles within. 

A crooked smile grew upon her face as she inhaled the sweet scent of winter. 

There She stood with frosted fingers at her side, Her chilly composure still dainty and delicate amongst the wind. 

She was smart enough to know if she stopped now, it would only be harder to leave in the morning, 

And so she journeyed on through the tundra with longing anticipation for warmer days.