Small in the Scheme of Things

 

               I think there's something exceptionally beautiful about standing alone outside on a cold winter night. When the sky is so clear that if you look up all you can see are hundreds of twinkling stars overhead.
It's on nights like these that you can throw your arms above your head and sing at the top of your lungs without having to worry about embarrassing yourself- there's no one around to hear you.
You can then stand and listen with wonder as the mountains pick up your song, spinning it around and carrying it through their craggy peaks only to turn and throw it back at you.
It's on nights like these, when every breath I take freezes my nose and burns my throat, that I feel alive. I feel like I'm overtaken by some sort of childishness; I throw fistfulls of powdery snow into the air, then stand there and laugh as I watch it drift silently back to the frozen ground.
It's on nights like these that I feel so small- and yet, for once, that feeling doesn't scare me.

(*Art by Sedeptra on Deviantart.)