Ballet · Writing

Dancing in the Snow

Hi, Readers!

Enjoy this short story, along with some pictures I took of the snow!

Dancing in the Snow

I don’t get it. Everyone always talks about “dancing in the rain.” I say we try dancing in the snow. Think about it. What is more uncomfortable than snow? It’s wet, cold, and often blows in your eyes. It creates a pain like no other. Rain cannot create the pain that cold can.

But rain also cannot compete with the beauty of snow. Does rain sparkle? Does rain light up the world? Does rain cover a landscape in soft blankets of white?

I take a step, cautiously, into the snow, pondering these things. There is only enough snow on the ground to touch my ankles, but it is still coming down steadily. It is night, and the light from the lamppost in my backyard shines through the trees and onto the snow, causing it to sparkle even more. I look back towards the brick house that I am reluctantly leaving, even though it is just for an hour or so.

Steadily, the snow continues, covering my brown hair that perfectly matches the shade of my coat. It sticks to my cheeks and eyelashes. I blink rapidly, trying to see through the storm as I continue walking into the forest, past the dark silhouettes of the tall trees.

I know exactly where I’m going. There’s a certain tree I want to find. It always looks majestic and incredible when covered with snow.

I stop suddenly. I strain my brown eyes to see in the dark. There it is. The tree is about 10 feet in front of me. I walk up to it, and brush my hand against its bark. The snow sticks to tree, just as it sticks to my gloves. I press my hand into the side of the tree, feeling for the slightest bit of warmth.

I sigh, feeling nothing but cold, as I look up into the tree. There is the reason that I came. My pointe shoes.

I tied a pair up there the day before, with the intent of coming back to this place for one reason. To dance in the snow.

I scramble up to a fairly low branch and untie the shoes. Clutching them towards my heart like a great treasure, I look up towards the taller parts of the tree. Shuttering, I imagine fear of climbing up that high.

Quickly, I hop off of the tree and into the snow. I brush the snow out of my pointe shoes and tap them against the side of the trees to get the snow out. I put on the shoes and tie the ribbons around my cold ankles.

I step forward, away from the tree, and strain my ears to hear what I had heard the night before. The odd music that had echoed throughout the forest.

After waiting, I decide that I must have missed it. The moment must have passed. Sadly, I walk away in defeat. I’d have to wait until tomorrow night. Of course, it wouldn’t be snowing tomorrow night.

I decide to do a little arabesque anyway, as I begin to walk back to the house. Suddenly, I hear a faint note play.

Convinced that it is just the wind, I start walking again, but the music grows louder. A smile comes across my face.  It’s calling me. The music, the snow, the shoes. The moment is completely perfect, and it is just waiting for me. I know that I will still have hard times, but it is moments like these that make struggling worth while.

I pull up onto the tops of my shoes, that are surrounded by the black of night. The silk material of the shoes shines brightly like stars in the night. I breathe the cold air in deeply, anticipating the wonderfully moment that I know is coming

I run into the snow, afraid of nothing. I laugh in the face of fear, wondering how I ever thought that it could reach me. The wind moves my arms as the music moves my feet. I dance in the snow. It is a moment of perfection. Absolute perfection.

Hope you liked this! Have a great week!
❤ McKinnlee


3 thoughts on “Dancing in the Snow

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