Personal Narrative On Being Cold

On a cold December morning snow blanketed the ground while a frozen mist masked the trees. Only the very tops could be seen. I stepped outside and inhaled the clean, crisp Texas air. Still half asleep, I walked to the truck feeling the soft powder compact beneath my boots and the snowflakes melt as they hit my skin. It was the time of year that I had been longing for.

Three days earlier on a wintery morning. I walked out of my warm apartment, as the cold breeze instantly smacked me in the face, even with my woolly, Christmas themed sweater and thick, quilted coat I was still cold. The sky was washed with grey clouds, as the ground was covered in crisp, white snow. The wind whooshed and whistled past my ears giving me the shivers; I quickly ran through the deep,

"Do you ever see yourself, fantasizing, about snow?" She asked, unaware of the ignorance, that seemed to protrude, across her face. "We live in Texas, obviously." I snickered, as she shot me a look of annoyance, "I know." She began as she rolled her eyes, "To better explain it, have you forgotten the feeling of snow, not your mind, but your body, the feeling of it laying in your hands."

The atmosphere is gray and white. When we do get snow, the woods look so pure and majestic that you would think that you were dreaming. The blanket of white in the trees and on the grass brings me vivid memories. The winter of 2009 was the year a snow storm pelted our humble town. Twelve inches of snow covered every object in the path of the merciless storm. One of my best friends, Chandler, and I went snow sledding in the midst of the woods. The laughter and joy I experienced that winter will carry with me as long as I live. The cold blushed my cheeks and turned my face a bright red. I closed my eyes and pushed off from the top of the hill. The sled accelerated down the winter wonderland. The sled eventually came to a halt. My family and friends were laughing as I crashed into a bush down below the next time I went. After picking myself up, I was laughing hysterically. We each took turns on the natural roller

It was 5:00, it’s crazy that we had been walking for hours and it hadn’t even felt like it. As I peered between tall trees, I saw a waterfall way out in the distance, the two of us decided to head that way. It took about five minutes to get to the falls and it was breathtaking. The setting sun floated just above the rocks behind and around the stream of water sloping down the mountain side.So there we stood, on top of the world, in front of a pink and orange sky as the constant sound of water crashing into the lower river filled my ears, I was in awe. Allegedly, Erin felt the same way because neither of us said anything for at least ten minutes. I felt as if I could stay there forever. I pulled out my phone to take a picture of this gorgeous view, but time after time each picture turned out bad and not what the actual scene looked like. I realized at that moment that some things are just too great to take a picture and I think that is the way things are supposed to be. The fresh breeze was back again and it was even colder than earlier . I then realized just how cold I was and checked my watch, it read 5:45, the perfect time to start heading back to the

It was an a normal hot day in California, the sun was shinning warm, and bright, the kids in my school were all having fun playing basketball, going in and out of the lunchroom, or sitting in groups chatting out on the field. I was seated at a table outside, which was right next to a square wall which on the inside contained dumpsters and other things like that. The chairs that were outside had a metal “thing” to cover it. It was basically just a metal pallet held up by small square pillars on each end. My friends and I were seated by the wall which was at the northeast most part of The Shade. (This is what we called the area with big metal pallet because besides inside the cafeteria it was the only place where we could get shade in the desert heat, because the couple of trees out on the field provided little to none whatsoever.)

The screams and giggles of joy from us are still audible, although their volumes have been dampened by the soft fabric of our scarves. We played and romped until we couldn’t feel our fingers and we had to trudge inside, catching a final glimpse of the trees, naked and brooding after being stripped by the lacerating winds. Once ridden of our sodden and damp winter gear, we rushed inside to gulp down a steamy cup of hot chocolate, complete with a few marshmallows on the top melting into the frothy, brown liquid. Those nights, we went to bed with warm hearts and

At this point, I never wanted to go sledding again. It was that bad. Snow coming down hard, it was freezing cold, and it was almost eight o’clock at night. I started to lay down in the snow, and pout. I thought, “This is by far, the worst day of my life.” I also thought, “Why did I not bring my house key? Why am I so stupid!”

This story starts out on a Saturday in December at around 4:30 A.M. The temperature is about 28 degrees. When I walk outside I notice the frosty white snow has covered everything like a blanket. It is so cold outside that my breath is reflecting in front of me like the smoke from a cigarette. The weather could not get

The forecast today was as cold as Antarctica, and the snow plummeted down onto terrain that was as slippery as an ice rink. My heart pumping blood to comfort my frostbitten ears, I rushed through the rigid winter wonderland. If I made one wrong turn my snowboard would make me pay for it. The area I needed to go to was inconspicuous because the pine trees that fluttered in the breeze, blocked the view. I started to falter when there was a huge blast of wind that nearly pushed me back up the mountain. I finally saw an opening and dashed for it like arrow heading towards its target. Once I made it through, I maneuvered my way down the slope. Now at the bottom of the mountain, I looked up at what I had accomplished and thought of how thrilling

I remember that winter. When raindrops fell covering the ground in a thick layer of ice. I looked out the window my breath fogging it up. I heard the sound of the oven ringing, and I instantly ran into the kitchen. The aroma of gingerbread permeated the air as another batch of gingerbread had just been taken out of the oven; another tray ready to slide in. Not being able to resist I put my hand out to grab a cookie when I rapidly pulled it back dropping the cookie. Deciding to wait for them to cool down, I went to the closet and put my coat on. I went outside and carefully advanced down the steps. I stepped onto the ice slipping and sliding trying to grab ahold of something. I clutched onto the pole next to me catching my balance. I started

It was a cold day, so cold that your arms start to sting as if a needle is impaling the surface of your skin. The wind applies a force which feels as if your face is oozing with thick crimson red blood. The gray puffy clouds covered the sky and dropped small snowflakes onto the road’s surface. A man stood there, freezing, clearing the coat of thick white snow from the concrete road. His nose runs with a river of snot that floods out when the cold wind strikes. His sense of smell is heavily clogged by the slimy snot, but he can still smell the scent of the steamy hot chocolate which sits on the top of his snow covered car. His feet start to numb because of the cold flood which soaks through his boots to his white, silky socks. His feet feel as if he stepped into the freezing cold ocean. As if he fell through ice and he was stuck standing there. The vast pile of the ice white snow feels almost like a quicksand around his black rubber boot. Foggy figures of people shovel the big piles of snow off the sidewalks. They scrape and pick at the glossy white ice which sticks to the sidewalk like a little boy clinging to his mother's side. His feet still sting as if he was stepping on pins and needles. His hands are damp with sweat from grasping the curved metal shaft attached to a socket which holds the blade. The blade cuts holes into the thick powdered snow which is removed from the endless pile. The jet black shovel is filled with slushy snow and crystal shards of ice. The end of

It was a frigid day in December. I wore so many clothes that I looked like a penguin. Every breath I took makes a small cloud and scattered. The gloves I worn seemed to be mildness like paws. The buildings behind me were covered by the thick snow. The wall became more brick-red because of the spotless white snow. Some snowflakes drift down on my hair gently. The snow was heavy, but not much wind. My friends bounced from worm house and laughed to me. “We should build a snowman. The snow is heavy enough.” One of my friends advised. We all cheered and started to pile the snow together.

Annie gazed out the window; the snow was falling like crystal diamonds. The frosty air made the windows all icy, making her finger through a smile on the window. It was another day of no school; it had been snowing like crazy here in Chicago. Most schools had been closed for weeks. It was just another day to cuddle up with a blanket and drink hot chocolate by the fireplace. But sadly for Annie she had to go outside in the frigid, cold weather and shovel the snow. Her mom went to work early in the morning and her dad ever since the divorce moved into an apartment.

On a snowy and windy night, I was at Barnes & Noble in Green Bay with my friends, Alan and Karina. Christmas music played overhead, the smell of hot chocolate and freshly brewed coffee wafted over, the customers were kind and cheerful, and snow was beginning to blanket the parking lot outside. We were sitting near the cafe wrapping books to support their mom’s school fundraiser. I stared outside and remembered my mom’s warning of the large snowfall that was almost upon us. Around 7:15, the snowflakes were becoming larger and we could barely see outside the window.