Snow Day-- a Writing Prompt

Where do you go, into the snow?

It rarely snows anymore in coastal Connecticut. But this morning, the world outside my window was hushed into submission and filled with it. I grew up in Michigan where it snowed from October to April. My childhood memories are filled with snow—the sound of my boots stepping onto the snow, how for a moment, my foot hitting the snow felt like breaking the world’s seal. How the cold would hit my face and take my breath away. The way the sky and the Earth melded together and held me in their arms.