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I hear the wind as it howls at me and trees shaking around me. I can feel the snow beneath my feet and hear the harsh sound as I step forwards. Feel the freezing cold around me. My nose becoming pinker. The air struggling to come out of my lungs. I can taste the snow forcing itself into my mouth and feel the weight of the snow piling on my head. I can see nothing but the shivering trees around me. I smell the cold air and shake harder before laying down and thinking so this is how it ends as a sense of peace comes over me.

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The soft snow pillows down onto the ground around me with the loud wind And the whistles of the trees blowing in my ears the fear of staying freezing cold coursing through my body while the beautiful white snow falls into my hair and on my clothes as I watch the soft blankets appear onto the ground. The trees are coated in the snow, and the touch of the snow is soft but freezing it's a beautiful sight but is a terrible nightmare to be right in the middle of. The fresh taste of freezing cold water landing down on my tongue as I catch snowflakes in my mouth is delightful. The smell of the trees blowing around along with the snow is a mixture of slight warmness.

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I would smell nothing because if I tried to, snow would go up my nose. I would taste water because snow is water. I would hear nothing but wind. I would feel the snow hitting me and the cold wind and air. I would see a vastness of snow and trees. I would be very scared to get lost.

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I smell snow and I also feel snow smacking me in the face like I’m in a school fight.

I feel a little panicked like I’m about to fall over or go flying like a kite because of the strong wind.

I’m like a bundle of bubble wrap in the middle of a snow storm.

I'll have to waddle home like a penguin .

I taste my cotton scarf choking me as I dilly dally.

I hear the wind whipping like a cowboy on a horse.

I can only see two feet in front of me because I’m bundled up like a bowling ball.

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The wind blows hair across your face as you squint to see the road. The trees shaking from the cold as the rush of the wind makes it impossible to hear anything but snow running past your ears, you spot a low wall. Moving is difficult, you are slowly hobbling to the wall before taking a seat, your pants and day already ruined as the snow slowly becomes more deep.

Will this storm ever pass?

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Standing in the white covered field unable to see what's ahead of me other than small shadows. The wind screeching and howling drowned out my screams for help. As each scream I make comes a cold bite from the wind almost burning in my throat. The smell of burning wood faintly there. The feeling in my hands is slowly fading and the cold painful rushes of wind no longer seem to bother me. It's almost warm now and I know the time is coming to an end. The last thing I can give you my dear love is a note and hope that when the snow melts you'll find me.

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The coldness making me shiver, even with all my clothes that should give me warmth I still don’t have it. I can hear to wind blowing loud and clear, I don’t think anyone could miss it. All I see is whiteness, I try not to open my eyes so snow doesn’t get in, but I can’t see where I’m going. The snow is starting to hurt like heavy rain hitting you on a rollercoaster, it feels like golf balls hitting your skin every second. Some snow got in my mouth, it’s stinging now because of how faster the snow is going. It smells like a typical winter day out I can smell the trees and the hot chocolate for when I get home. I need to get back inside before this gets worse.

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The wind whistles as snowflakes whip past your face. Your feet start to sink into the billows of snow that are quickly forming on the ground. The wind slices past and bites you, like a thousand tiny creatures. You feel so cold it is almost numbing. The landscape that was once clear is now blanketed in a coating of white, like a thick mist. You start to feel each individual snowflake that touches your body as a prick of white-hot fire. Your hands and feet are losing feeling. The snow is now up to your ankles, burning through your skin. You try to imagine yourself in a cozy spot, warm and dry, but it is no use, as you are now at the mercy of mother nature, and she is a relentless fury.

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I feel the shrieks of flat, fat blades slicing through the air before they cut at my skin. A banshee of tiny frozen droplets whips around my body until my skin turns red in protest. The tree to my left cracks sharply and I fear that it will crush me before I can push one leg forward in the gale beating me back. I cannot progress, cannot escape, and I taste a penny in my mouth as blood rushes from my tongue. I must have bit it while I was straining to move. The squat silhouette of my cabin taunts me from afar, sitting cozily on the hill within my line of sight. If only I’d waited to gather more firewood. The burnt sticks in my hands smell ashy, but soon there will be nothing to perceive.

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Flamingos stick together, they don't like to be apart. They’ll stick together and won't let themselves grow apart. The test of time may tear some things apart, but not flamingos, they stay where they are.

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Slowing down from a great flight down to a trot on the shores of new horizons. On the lands of a new being able to rest for the first time enjoying the water and food. Grouping together, always looking to new surroundings.

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Flying. White, pink, black. Long nimble legs. Heads underwater search making them look like statues posing in the wind. A family standing together. Comfortable with each other. Coming back home. Feathers flapping high creating winds. Running around looking towards the sky. Standing still with their heads held high.

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The light pink colors with black contrast feathers are eye-catching. They are all in a large group like a family. The way they walk and use their legs is fascinating. the way they fly is breathtaking and are always on the lookout for others around them.

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The black wings of the flamingo slice through the air, carrying the heavy, sickly sweet bodies of the flamingos down to their stage. They land on a mirage-like sand-bar and strut in unison, dancing together as they pluck their spindly legs from the muck under the marsh water. Then the atmosphere changes. The flamingos whip their beaks this way and that as they authoritatively search the sky for any threats. As a militia they march, their eccentric choreography evolving into a drum line of steady forward goose stepping.

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Flamingos come to a running stop when they land, it reminds me of an airplane. They walk in a flamboyance and look out for predators. They eat in shallow rivers.

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The way the flamingos landed made it look like they were walking on water. The “dance” some of the flamingos were doing looked truly alien. The way they cocked their heads and moved in a single rhythm startled me at first. They were just a giant pink mob, strutting through the water with heads held high. It was quite the sight.

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I didn’t know flamingos could fly

Their flamboyance was breathtaking

They're like walking shrimp

Is there a leader to their groups?

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The flamingos looking clueless when walking. All in sync with each other. With their weirdly shaped necks. Drinking water together. They are all different colors from each other not one of them has the exact same color.

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Petals opening towards the sun showing their seeds. Different types of flowers are opening. Graduating from bulbs. Deep blues, rich pinks, and crisp whites. Art work made by God. Nature’s sculptures. Slow and steady. Water drips from leaves. Patterns on leaves. Seed pods spreading out scouting for places to grow. Flowering moving upward. Getting taller and wider. soft petals Flowy leaves and crisp ones. Multiple colors mixing together.

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A flower over time will open up to you, and bloom to reveal ovules and blossom into walls of bright color. A flower blooming takes time, you must be patient and kind for it to show you its beauty.

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The way that the flowers open when they are blooming is something truly amazing. The way the petals fall and rise,  the way they just lay on top of one another is beautiful. The little dew drops fall or slip down each small petal like it's been there before. All of the different colors and patterns textures even are all different. The way each flower blooms and the petals lay is all different. Every single flower is so vividly colorful. How do all of the many petals some of those flowers have fit in such a small unbloomed flower?

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The flower pedals slowly unravel from one another so gently as it opens to show the flower in full beauty. Each flower blooming at different speeds some more gently and meekly then others. Showing their true colors as they bloom in full.

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Tendrils of all shapes, colors, and sizes opening up and revealing what has been hidden away inside of them. Sometimes the jagged edges of the petals make it look like the flower is opening its mouth and revealing teeth. It can look sometimes like wings unfurling or a gaping maw opening up.

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Some flowers pop open while others slowly uncurl. Bigger flowers with  more petals take longer and smaller flowers take a shorter time to bloom. After the petals uncurl, the anthers bend into place. I think peonies are the prettiest flowers because they have so many petals.

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The flowers are pink, unfurling, curling backwards at the edges like a piece of paper burning in a hot fire. The lips of the tulips stretch as they bloom, reaching back to the stalks that begot them. They sigh, it seems, as they open up to the world and wetly greet the earth. The stamen are still and stoic, reaching upwards to finally meet their maker–the sun. Some of them blossom like cream, others pop open like kernels heating up in a pot. It’s a tragedy that these petals must be crushed in order to make the paint that will fix their beauty on a canvas for all eternity.

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It takes time to open up

You look best when you’re fully yourself

Flowers come in all shapes and sizes

Nature is powerful

We can grow on our own or with the help of others

Growing is a process

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The shriveled up leaves blooming into flowers. Like a butterfly going out of their cocoon for the first time. The many different flowers and colors, such a beautiful site. Some have different stuff in the middle. Some have more vines than others, some are small, some are big. Some tall some short. They are all unique in their own way. All the flowers different from one another, like a snowflake. All with different types of beauty.