Small, strange droplets of white fall from the fluffed clouds in the sky, falling so fast it feels like an icy kiss tingling along your skin. It flutters down like magical confetti; sparkling, and dazzling, as it becomes a thick blanket, warming up the floor bed. Snow slides under your arms as you create an angel, each one slightly better than the last. Hidden broken sticks fill the spaces around you as you search for the perfect one to fit the arms of your snowman. You find the perfect sticks to place at his sides, placing a broom in his hands, with a corn cob pipe, and a button nose, and two eyes made out of coal. You take the top hat off your head and place it on top of the snowman, bringing him to life as the children all joyfully chorus "FROSTY!"
You feel the soft crunch of the snow underneath your feet, listen to the sounds of sleds softly sliding down slopes, the sounds of arctic wolves howling, the scrapes of shovels shoveling driveways to make way for mobiles. Fresh, crisp air envelopes the skies, scents of cottages burning wood for the winter sifts through the wide-open windows, and the seasonal aroma of hot cocoa wafts through the air, all sparking a light inside of you. It's Christmas. Let all the earth rejoice.
You rush back into the house to have a taste of the hot cocoa that fills the air. Walking back into the cottage, you are blessed by the number of decorations that fill the halls. The halls are decked with boughs of holly, tinsel garlands sparkle along the banisters as the lanterns play their tunes, all the individual figures inside playing their role and telling their stories. The fireplace is adorned with neatly knitted stockings from Nanna and is messily covered in even more tinsel.
Before you grab a sip of that deliciously hot cocoa that you hope you will soon consume to warm up your insides, you race to the tree to make some final adjustments, adding a few pinecones you found outside. But before you add them onto the tree, you head to the nearest table and cover the outlines in glitter, and thread through a small, thin piece of rope that allows you to loop it to the tree. As you wander towards the tree, a furred figure approaches you, the sensation of its fur tingles your fingers as you stroke through its thick coat of fur, its white fur as white as the snow that drips from the skies outside. Light sounds of pattering become louder as you race towards the window and listen to the snow lightly brushing against it. You take one of the pinecones with you, but leave the others on the table beside the tree, making sure the glitter does not spill everywhere, - or end up decorating the couch instead of the tree.
