Frozen Raindrops

My breath becomes visible when I exhale into the chill of the still, winter air but, I do not mind the cold. I hear nothing, but the solemn sound of silence as I stand in the middle of nowhere, with no one, looking straight up into a gray sky and seeing nothing, but a million snowflakes coming toward me. Tumbling, dancing, drifting, and finding their way to the earth. No, they are not just frozen raindrops. Each one is a miniature ice sculpture intricately carved by the hand of a master artist. Can it be, within the billions of snowflakes that fall each year, that no two are ever alike? While I do not have the answer, I enjoy pondering the question. I stand perfectly still, as if frozen in time, as the snow falls down, and sticks onto my hair, instantly aging me as my golden-brown locks turn white. Yet, I feel much younger than I am. I feel like I am inside a snow-globe that has just been shaken. I can feel them gently landing on my face, these delicate snowflakes tickle me as they get caught by my eyelashes. I just close my eyes and smile.