The snow continued. It was a light and delicate dusting. A gentle dusting, similar to the appearance of powdered sugar on the tops of sugar cookies.  It sparkled in the sun like diamonds, a bright, blazing sparkle that was nearly blinding.  With the snow came the winds. Freezing and frigid winds that seemed to have been born of ice itself. They bit at one’s skin with razor sharp teeth that could puncture even the thickest down coat, and so the snow continued. The flakes became as large as pennies and were whipped into tornados due to the mighty winds. The flakes spread. They blotted out all the land, like a curse, spreading and spreading. The evergreens scattered along the landscape became as white as the clouds. The grass that was once emerald appeared as if it had been doused in bleach. Everything became white. A pure and blinding silver like white for as far as the eyes could see.  No one went out when the great snow came.  If one went out during the great snow they too would turn white. Soon, they too would become one with the landscape and evolve into snowmen, frozen until the warm winds of spring allows them to unthaw. Colossal snowflakes, biting winds, and pure, blinding whiteness. Welcome to a Minnesota blizzard of my childhood memories.