http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V1Zh__5H_eYIt's the dead of winter. You're alone in your yard, smothered in layers of thick coats and garments. The bitter cold is stings what little flesh is left exposed, assisted by the merciless wind. The falling snow suffocates the earth, rendering it absolutely silent. The trees stand gray and naked, like dark, vigilant obelisks, with hundreds of bare, branching arms. The trees are frozen, and they watch you, almost judging, as you trudge across your yard.
There is no other life around you. Homes are snowed in, blocked off completely from the outside world. Cars lie buried. Not a sound, never another sound, but the whistling of the winter wind and the gentle, oh-so gentle cotton brushing of snow landing on snow. Your footsteps introduce the first noise to the pristine world, shattering the perfect snowfall and birthing a thick crunch. Step after step, you maneuver the deep banks of snow, observing how very lifeless the world has become.
So lifeless. So quiet. So clean.
As what feels like the only man on the planet, you explore this empty new world, searching for spectacles and wonders that only the magnificence of a blizzard can provide.
The world is a crystal, and you're inside it.