My arms are sticks, my body a frosty mound, and my nose is a carrot. I stand tall in the middle of the yard, watching the frosty world around me. The children run and laugh, their little feet leaving tracks in the fresh snow. Their joy is contagious, and I can’t help but smile, though my smile is frozen, just like me. The cold air around me makes me shiver, though I don’t feel it in the same way humans do. I think they get cold, their bodies are not made of the same material I am. I’m made of snow, and snow doesn’t mind the cold. I watch as the children roll more snow, building another snowman friends beside me. They decorate it with buttons and scarves, making it look just like me. Suddenly, they are distracted by something else now, a snowball fight, perhaps. The sun begins to rise higher in the sky, and I feel a small change. The warmth of the day is creeping in. I’ve seen it before, in the slow melt of my body. I start to lose my shape, little bits of me turning into water that drips down to the ground. It’s strange, this feeling of fading. But I know I will be reborn again one day when the snow falls and the children come out to play again. Until then, I watch the children play and listen to the world that is full of life, even as I remain still, slowly fading into the winter air.
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