Cold.

Light, bright and glaring, prompts tears as I step out into a world of harsh cold, biting winds, and striking beauty.

Bright white light, reflected from every angle, illuminates a landscape defined by shifting shadows.  

Screaming winds sweep up ice crystals that tear the skin and block the sun and all falls dark

                     ---only cold and the harsh wind, with hope to guide the way. 

Winter, fiercely delicate, a force that simultaneously makes one want to weep for the beauty, run for the terror.