I was walking back to my dorm on a dark and snowy night. It would usually be a 15-minute trip that I often made to see a close friend of mine. This time about halfway through, I stopped. There was no one around. The world didn’t feel real. The snow reminded me of the dandruff that fell off of my older brother’s head. It fell slowly and softly, like each flake was its own little feather dancing through the sky. 

The silence that filled the air was only interrupted by my sloshy footsteps and quiet breaths. My initial goal was to get back to my dorm as fast as possible, but instead, I just sat down in the snow. The snow wasn’t plowed, because it was the middle of the night. I imagine if I was seen, whoever saw me might have thought that I was a loon. I guess I would usually agree with them, but something about this night convinced me that I needed to stay in it. 

I just wanted to exist in that moment. It was cold and wet. My legs in the snow were colder than the air that was burning my ears. That didn’t dull the peace that I felt in that moment. The silence, with the falling snow and no one else around. It was breathtaking. The silence fought its way into my mind, and my mind went silent. The quiet of the night and my brain all at once allowed me to just be. I sat there for what felt like an hour of peace before getting up, and finishing the walk.