the snow is beautiful, magnified by the bright winter sun. i crouch down and start packing together white crystals with my bare hands, letting the cold sting. i pack it together until i can start rolling it up the snow-covered hill. i push and push and push and devote my entire attention to this sparkling, increasingly heavy creation. i reach the top of the hill with a gleaming white boulder just up to my hips. i shock my lungs with a sharp gasp of freezing wind as the sun slowly disappears behind thick, grey clouds. i nudge my efforts down the hill as they consume ravenously, growing wildly, rolling wildly. the snow is dirty here from the displaced parking lot slush and it coats and merges with my work.