I pull back the heavy velvet curtains and peek out the window, admiring the soft, unbroken snow outside. It looked like a graceful ice kingdom had been created overnight. I pull on my jacket, fighting the strong desire to go out in my pajamas. Once I'm bundled up from the loud gusts of piercing wind, I run into the icy, knee-deep snow. My footprints interrupt the white bed of snow, my frosty breath being released into the clear air. I felt as if I was standing on a blank canvas, waiting for me to use it. I plop down and gently pick up a handful of snow with my bare hands, feeling the cold creep across every inch of my hand. I let it sift between my fingers. It’s the perfect consistency; fluffy and light, but wet enough to build a flawless snowman.