Magic.

School started this week and already, the reading material is piling up. So far, my classes seem enjoyable; I have great teachers and amusing, enlightened classmates. I decided to be involved even more with the people I meet this year. I want to really listen to people, learn their stories and soar through their experiences. Idealistic, no? Perhaps. All I know is that, usually, winter is a tough season for me especially when February roars its ugly head. It seems like my thoughts are tarnished with tar, as if something in my core is eating at me from the inside. It doesn't take much to get me on edge.

So far, I've been doing good. What I love about getting older, is that I stop sweating the small stuff and I get more comfortable in my own skin. I stop putting pressure on myself about things out of my control like other people's reactions or their feelings towards me. Sure, I fret about a bad hair day or I worry about a lover's opinion but I am able to let go and let God.

It's been snowing a lot,but I find solace in snow, always.

Three winters ago, I had a surgery and I was bed ridden for a week. To pass time, I read Narnia’s seven tomes. The first book started with Lucy stumbling out of a closet into the enchanted world of Narnia. It is winter and she finds herself in the forest next to a lantern. The world around her is dormant; the trees are leafless, the snow is so abundant there is no pathway other than back to the closet from which she stumbled.
Then, she sees a faun; an odd creature whose upper body resembles that of a small man while his lower body is comprised of goat legs and cloven hooves. The faun, Mr. Tumnus, tells Lucy that Narnia once was a grandiose land where summer, spring and autumn were winter’s faithful companions. Long ago, the White Witch pronounced herself queen of Narnia; since then, the land has been covered with snow and ice.
Lucy and Mr.Tumnus's walk through the iced entrails of Narnia was hauntingly beautiful.
When dusk fell, I opened my window and let the cold air enter my bedroom. I bundled in sheets and read Narnia, dreaming about the ice covered hills, the crisp snow and the White Witch’s chariot.
A couple days into my house arrest, I started to get stronger. Getting up to go take a shower was no longer strenuous so I decided to take a walk outside. It was February and there was snowstorm after snowstorm; trees, streets and houses were covered in white, the snow was crisp and glistening, soft and fluffy.
My boyfriend at the time met me on my porch steps and we walked, hand in hand. I was amazed by the cars that looked like igloos because of the snow fall, I even rejoiced in the ice covered side walk and my frosted fingers and toes.
An insight into the mythical land of Narnia had given me a new appreciation for the world around me. I found beauty in the lifeless trees, stripped of their leafy manes, frozen sap awaiting spring. The sun set and the snow glittered under the street lamps’ lights.
I breathed in the fresh air and enjoyed every moment of my walk in the snow. I saw magic in my surroundings and for the first time in my life, I mourned the upcoming spring.
I went back home, my face red with cold and my nosy runny; my mother welcomed me with a cup of hot cocoa. I slipped between the covers of my sheets and resumed my lecture. Every once awhile, I peeked outside my window, comforted by the falling snow flakes, awaiting tomorrow’s walk in the snow.

A couple nights ago, as I walked down the street to my apartment, I thought back on how the winter landscape had brought such comfort to me in the past. I looked around and saw the beauty in the listless trees, once more, three years later, I was reliving Winter's magic.