My boots crunched on the cracked layer of frost that tried to cover up the dying grass, while the hot air exiting my mouth puffed as a cloud of steamy breath. Made from white cloth, my warm cloak was wrapped around me like piping hot Mexican burrito that humans eat, contrasting the nearly freezing meadow I stood in.

So there I stood, alone in the dead fields, which sprawled out for miles and miles. My head was tilted towards the sky, which was blanketed by a layer of grey, gloomy clouds.

“The season of winter is often hated by many,” I whispered, my voice soft and warm. “It’s when snow falls and covers the world with death, causing leaves to die and fall, killing the weak yet beautiful flowers, and shutting the animals away into hibernation and migration.” I smiled sadly. “It’s sad, really, because winter has so much beauty.”

Slowly, one-by-one, miniscule speckles of crystallized ice began to fall until they were descending to the ground en masse. It was snowing.

“But there’s such a great amount of beauty that we normally ignore, and it’s always right in front of us,” I continued, raising my hand for a snowflake to land on. “There is beauty in these tiny, frozen particles; there is beauty in snowflakes.”

The wind began to pick up, blowing the snowflakes past me. “I know that snowflakes are so small and insignificant. But that’s the problem with humans these days. They’ve become too superficial.”

I snapped my fingers to call upon my powers, and the ice crystal in my hand immediately expanded into an apple-sized snowflake, floating and spinning above my palm. Its simple hexagonal plate design was austere, blank and unornamented.

“Simple, flat design. Symmetrical. This snowflake is a hexagonal plate.” I identified the expanded snowflake before willing it to shrink once more, blowing it away to be caught by the icy wind. “Just like how humans see all snowflakes; bland and simple, without a hint of beauty or intricacy.”

Another flake fell into my palm, which I also expanded. Six arms pointed in several directions, reaching to varying distances and appearing rather unorganized.

“This six-armed snowflake is asymmetrical, probably because of some stray dust in the air,” I noted. “Humans say that would affect the ‘hydrogen bonding’ of the ‘water molecules.’ This makes the snowflake unique, but sadly it is shunned by humans because of its individuality.”

I shrank and released the distinct snowflake before grabbing hold of one last crystal, which I promptly expanded. This flake possessed twelve arms, spaced out equally and all reaching the same distance as each other. Sketched on its limbs were beautiful patterns, incredibly complex and intricate like the veins of a leaf.

“A twelve-sided snowflake,” I observed. “The rarest type of snowflake to be seen during winter. Its complete symmetry and complicated shapes aren’t just beautiful; they are flawless, faultless, and perfect, just like every other snowflake to ever exist on this earth.” And one last time, I shrank and released the snowflake.

The icy, biting wind slowly began to grow in strength until it was howling like a wolf in the wild, and the snowflakes swirled around in a furious flurry like a hurricane.

“The season of winter is a time of death,” I admitted. “It’s when life ends; it’s when life sleeps. But there is beauty, even in this frozen land.”

As the wind and snowflakes began to swirl faster and faster around me, I raised my arms out to my sides. “The snowflakes that humans see everyday are so small and insignificant to them; but their true form is truly beautiful.”

The stirring winds had created a storming blizzard around me, and despite the biting cold of the snowflakes, I was oblivious to the sting.

“My name is Jack Frost,” I announced to the empty field. “I am the season of winter that humans hate so much. But I still leave behind a gift for mankind; snowflakes.”

And in an instant I threw my cloak over myself and disappeared.