View from a Window

          The sound of dogs cater-wauling in the house behind me jerked me from my sleep. I pulled open the curtains to see what was causing the dogs to make such a horrific racket. It was early in the morning and the sun was not yet although its rays could be seen peeping from behind the mountains to my right bathing the summits in blood-red light. The jagged peaks overshadowed a forest of bare trees. A thick layer of deathly-white snow smothered the last shoots of grass which continued to battle against the cold of winter in a futile fight for life.
          Facing my bedroom window is a frozen lake imprisoning life beneath its icy surface. In the centre of the lake, a snowman with gleaming black stones for eyes and a lopsided twig for a mouth sneered at me as he observed and recorded my every move. His scarf had been blown off his shoulders and now dangled from his branch arms swaying back and forth as though beckoning me to join him on his icy lake. The wind whistled an eerie tune which chilled me to the bone despite my warm clothing. Suddenly afraid of the snowman and his watchful eyes, I looked to my left and saw the distant lights of the lamp-posts and the few cars snaking their way up the road that would eventually lead to the main city. The faint reflection of the glow from the lamps on the snow flickered. The light cast by the bulb seemed repressed; as though the darkness were eating it up and preventing it from shining as brightly as it should. The stars, normally clearly seen in winter, were being outshone by the faint light of the lamp-posts and the few rays from the sun yet the sun did not relieve the lake and snowman from their cold solidarity.
          The song of a bird drew me to my window-sill. The sun had cleared the top of the mountain and was now shining down on the vast landscape in all its majesty, endowing everything it shines on with a golden halo. The trees, dressed in their sparkling white gowns seemed to dance to the song of the bird. The mountains, so ominous and threatening earlier on, like a shield, protected the trees. The golden sun’s rays mirrored by the lake made it glitter like jewels. The snowman no longer sneered and mocked me, the scarf swayed in time to the duet of the bird and the wind which was still as cold as before. His smile charming smile and outstretched arm invited me to waltz around the ice before the dark came again. His eyes, shining with happiness looked at me as if to say ‘the time has come for you to step out once more and feel the winter breeze.’ I could no longer see the ugly black tarmac. The cars making their way through the thick blanket of snow were like a procession of caravans. Everywhere, light shone. The beaming mountains so proud and mighty positively radiated a golden glow. I opened the window to feel the cold winter air on my cheeks. I looked below and noticed a tiny patch of grass which I believed would, despite all odds grow and flourish in the time to come.