Snow.

It falls like gentle angels plummeting from the sky, each a frozen ember of crystal brilliance before collapsing against the inevitable.

Sky.

A shimmering sea of pearl and dust, tinged with a certain murky aesthetic disposition that can only be replicated by the hands of an unknown artist.

Earth.

A tone only accomplished on nature's unique tapestry. A coming together, a union, of soil and flora that beckons to be drenched in the sweat of heaven.

Elements.

Each independent in their own regard, but subject to the variations of ferocity and grace that is fate's fancy. Ah, such a divine conglomeration! Such a connected comedy of cold! I breathe deep into my hands, embracing the enriching but fleeting warmth. Each gasp leaves a trail of vapor hovering into the abyss of air alone before me, until it dissipates back into a grander system than I alone cannot provide.

Such is the way of her beauty, my pale yet elegant companion. I find comfort in her frigid complexion, and in her touch the stinging bite of sadness. I am lost in her depths, reeling in the intoxication of her decadent embrace. If I close my eyes, and let the sweeping winds of her cloth brush my cheek, a single moment seems to last forever.

Such is the nature of my timeless mistress.

Such is the way of winter.