Descriptive Paragraph First Snow

         After waking up to the vague, drifting scents of maple syrup and hot chocolate, I drag myself out of bed and shuffle my feet sleepily out of the room. Where is everyone? I hear distant jubilant shouting outside, and decide to investigate. However, opening a door is no easy feat for a three-year-old. I stretch up on my toes until my fingers reach the cold brass doorknob and I pull with the strength of a bodybuilder. The door cracks open. Immediately, my breath catches in my throat. A whip of icy air strikes my face and wraps its way around me, clutching me in its icicle fingers. The world has turned white. As far as I can see, a thick blanket of cotton has enveloped the ground. One step out the door, and I'm knee-deep, my bare toes burning. Bewildered, I reach down to scoop some into my mouth and taste the gritty frozen water. Shivering and and gasping for breath, I retreat thankfully into the house, where bacon sizzles welcomingly.