If I imagine hard enough, I can almost see a slight dusting of snow on the tree branches outside. If I look quick enough, I can see the sparkle of the sun relfecting off of it and blinding me for half a second. If I light my candle for long enough, I can smell the snowfall and transport myself back to the north woods of Michigan.

If I imagine hard enough, I can be back to the stillness of winter, the wildlife tip-toeing around, the smell of smoke rising out of the chimney, and the relaxing feeling after taking the first steps outside, starting the journey to wherever the destination may lie. I can be back to the quiet and calm and peace that a winter wonderland is, instead of the harsh reality of the winter wonder-not I'm in.

If I imagine hard enough, the gas fireplace turns to wood burning, the smell permeating the blankets and chairs. The hot coco in my hand warms me up instead of just making me hot, and I devour the book I am reading in a second, because everyone knows there is nothing cozier than sitting in front of a fireplace reading as snow reigns terror on the world outside.

For a second I can hear the crunch of fresh powder underneath my boot as I mount myself onto my snowboard, instead of the harsh crush of asphalt underneath my tennis shoe. For a second, I can feel the chill of the air rush by my face as I head down the mountain instead of the brisk breeze genty rustling the leaves still on the trees. For a second, I can taste the nothingness of snow and feel melting flakes in my hair.

Only for a second.
If I imagine hard enough.