The Blizzard

 

                           The Blizard        

 

I was in my home, safe from the cold, the fire crackling, and the wind whistling a tune.

The storm was acting like a snow globe, tossing the snow up and then falling back

down like someone was shaking us. The whistling became louder and I could see ice

form on the windows, the snow came down harder looking like an avalanche had just hit

us—the snow covered our windows, blindfolding them. The blizzard went on all day, I

tried to get some sleep, but it was disturbed by a snap, crack, and thud. “Mom, Dad,

what was that?!” They rushed to their second-story window. They didn’t say anything,

“Mom, Dad, what happened? I’m scared.” You know our big tree in the front yard? My

Dad said. I nodded. “It just split down the middle and snapped in half.” He said with his

arms open for me to hug. My favorite tree to hide in, it had a nook I could play in. I cried

because I won’t play in the front yard the same again. At least the tree lived a long life

and got to see some snow before it went away. At least I have memories of this

marvelous tree and the snow can remind me of these memories.