Never before

I pushed through the cold steel doors only to be greeted by a blast of cold air cutting through the 6pm sky. Still warm inside with the taste of French Vanilla on my tongue, I opened my mouth and inhaled taking in the cold air as well as the scenery.

Standing high above the Amity Plaza, it seemed as if the wind was a bit more brisk than usual, whispering past my bare ears. I focused steadily on my frigid hand racing feverishly across the paper attempting to document everything I could see as fast as possible in a rush to retreat back to the warmth of the classroom, but the assignment was to feel, not simply to look.

Slowly balancing my notebook on the icy railing, I picked my head up from note taking and listened. I listened to distance voices down below bidding rushed farewells to escape the blistering winds with their shadows following closely behind. The dim lights from below poured out into the plaza, framing the shadows as they scurried out of sight before levitating to the balcony, illuminating my paper.

The grey night skies hung low draping behind the rusted sculpture of unity protruding from the plaza. The temperature on the marquee above the ACC read seventeen degrees, but the sensation of small needles puncturing my hand while it grasped a pen with failing frozen ink, made the temperature feel far below zero.

With my body temperature dropping I took rapid breaths in attempts to warm up. In and out, breathing the thin air and exhaling a frosty cloud. As the sweet calming air filled my polluted lungs, I felt content. I felt accomplished. We are always rushing away terrified of the winter and its cold breath, as if it is a monster that will steal our warmth and leave us still, but I took the time to get to know that air, and it showed me freedom in a wind that I have never felt in a calming summer breeze. Refreshed, I turned and looked down at the pile of snow shoved into the corner of the balcony, that which coats the saddened streets with a beautiful blanket and dazzles on the night of its fall, left to disappear into the moonlight. We never understand the simple beauties; we never love until we lose.