On board the second to last bus to my destination, I was struck by an unprecidented semblence of vast nothingness. Seemingly unending blackness, like the vacumme of space. Tiny bits of light, rare, and so untouchable, they were like phantom fireflies fluttering by ever so slowly. Every street was deserted, save for flakes of the softest ice that fell from the heavens. These cities had no people. It seemed as if their ghosts tried to scare away the lurid darkness, although it remained futile. The glittering city lights blinked, as if timid, flinching, gasping for breath underneath a thick sea of blackness. The ghosts seemed scared of being consumed, their illusion of electric light strived to peirce the bosom of night, and only after the lights went out, did the beautiful diamond children of night become visable. The stars, tucked so gently beside the lady of the night's sythe, grew ever brighter as the treachery of electric lamps faded into obscurity.

As night's heavy burden was lifted by tendrils of orange and yellow, the beauty of the land awakened. The birth of true light breathed life into the countryside, illuminating the blinding innocence of the undisturbed snow. The hills grew, sprouted trees, and became imense giants along the valley. Waterfalls stood in shock, glittereing like marble, as a gift to Aspen. She is the prized queen of Colorado, crowned by mountains, adorned in white silk and jeweled with evergreens. This is her kingdom of snow and white, an all encompassing land, a metaphor for my ice cold heart.

How can one not fall in love with this beautifully tragic Queen?

Winter is ever so lovely... This is my season...

~Rose