It is bitter cold outside.

Well, considering this is the Midwest, it could be burning or freezing, even in January. But this time, it was the latter. I looked up the forecast for the next day. 3 to 5 whole inches of snow. Three to five chances of no school. With the little amount of snow we get, believe me, I was exited. Looking out of my bedroom window, it was already flurrying. Just a bit of snow, so it seemed. Looking further into the dimly lit sky, I saw thousands and thousands of tiny flakes. Thousands and thousands of tiny flakes, and yet, they make up nothing.

3 to 5 inches. God, how many trillions of snowflakes must it take to make up just a half of a square inch of snow? The thought blew my mind. I glanced outside once again. The snow fell even harder than before. The sky was a blur of the pink and orange sunset, and the crisp white of snow. The ground had a tiny layer of flakes, not enough to make a real difference, but obviously there. It got there one snowflake at a time.

3 to 5 inches. Now I was sitting on my deck clothed by nothing more than a swimsuit. I love the cold. I was made for it. My family was in the hot tub, and I was sitting in the frozen droplets surrounding me. They sparkled even in the dark. The snow reached a bit higher on me. It tickled my nose, and landed on my lashes. I became a human snowman.

3 to 5 inches. I hear the phone ring. It is 10:17 pm. School is closed due to snow and the extreme cold. I smile to myself. This is what life is all about. I recline in my bed and listen to music. I look outside once again. The driveway glistens with snow. I grin.

3 to 5 inches. I wake up the next morning to the sound of the scrapers on my block. The tips of the grass are covered entirely, the roofs of the houses dripped ice sickles, and the navy blue car across the street was covered fully in white. The entire block looked like a scene from a holiday movie. I beamed. The sight was fantastic to behold, stunning and breathtaking.

And imagine, this beautiful and pristine scene happened just one flake at a time.