The ground is silver from the residue of left over early morning frost. The skies are an expanse of dusky grey with hints of white, depicting an aura of misery and gloom. People walk about hurriedly, bundled up in multiple layers of clothing, yet chilled to the bone. The unmistakable feeling of dread hangs in the air, like a heavy stench of rotting carcasses; intolerable, yet inescapable.
From my perch at the window sill, I look out at the world. My feet numb from the cold, my nose a bright red. I get up off my seat to warm up a little.
The world is an austere picture of bleakness. Every colour seems to have evaporated along with the cold icy wind, leaving behind forlorn faces clouded with desolation.
Appreciation is found in the smell of freshly brewed coffee, the warmth of a crowded café and the crackling of the fire. I find a reason to be grateful. Looking up, meeting the eyes of a beautiful stranger and returning his smile, I’m filled with a sense of contentment and warmth, and gratitude far beyond my comprehension.