TWENTY-SEVEN
AlmaCampus is eerily calm tonight. Most houses lie dark. The fresh snow is undisturbed in the yards. I suppose most people my age are home with family on Christmas. It’s surreal, passing the places that are usually loud and alive but are now peaceful and blanketed in white.
I walk slower, absorbing this winter wonderland. My footsteps alone crunch into the sidewalk snow, and I can’t help but feel like this gift of serenity is for me. After an unusual and completely random day, the calm nurtures my soul, and I cherish it.
As much as I complain about the snow and cold of my state, I have to admit that a fresh snowfall is one of the most amazing things. It drapes the world in a fresh beginning, a seasonal reminder that anyone can start anew. Chaos can be silenced. Ugly can be
