Winter’s ugly now. I’m sorry, winter, for saying that. But look around. If I’m honest, I see myself in you. 

Tired eyes make me look older than I am. Somewhere in this city, I’ve lost my sparkle. 

Like me, snow, you started with such promise, arriving pristine. But you quickly lost your sparkle, too. Tires and boots, both moving too fast, flatten you into a dirty slush. And the dogs. Oh my goodness, the dogs. How you must sob when they shamefully paint you a smelly yellow. 

Winter, I want to run around catching your snowflakes in a childlike effort to keep you pretty. I would smile so big catching a snowflake. Do you think if I smiled, I would be pretty again? 

But this busy city wouldn't understand such behavior. There’s no choice but to run away, in search of the things I’ve lost. 

Packing a small bag, I head toward a cabin in the nearby mountains. I can’t help but smile when the skyline disappears from my rear-view mirror. The four-lane has become two, edged by tall pines as far as my eyes can see. The green around me soothes my soul, unlike the concrete jungle of the city. 

I arrive at the cabin, and the quiet feels strange at first. The water is frozen. No leaves rustle on trees. The snow is a pristine blanket, tucking the forest in. It’s as if everything is peacefully sleeping, and I want that for myself.

My shoulders drop, no longer held rigid by the weight of worldly things. My breath comes in steady inhales and relaxing exhales. I yawn and wander inside.  

The next thing I know, morning light streams through the window of the cabin. I’d fallen asleep in the comfy old chair by the fireplace. I lift my head and see it— a snowflake on the window. It clings to the cold pane and calls to me. 

The voice is soft, but somehow familiar. I pull on my boots and dash outside. Oh no. The faint sound is getting lost in the clutter in my head. Struggling to make out the words, I have to push the to-do lists and work pressures aside. Please, I need to hear! I inhale again, from my gut this time, and shove the other voices distracting me from peace back in a corner. 

Then it happens. My head falls back, I close my eyes, and listen. 

Relax.

Slow down.

Breathe. 

The snowflakes dance all around me, whispering more in my ear. I dance, too, not worrying how I look. 

You’ve found your joy.

You’re beautiful. 

This voice, I trust. I really listen. 

I’ve found my joy. 

I’m beautiful. 

Dancing alone in the falling snow, I suddenly understand and smile. 

It isn’t the snowflake whispering after all, but my own voice. 

I can finally hear it once again.