frustrated. what am i doing wrong?
imagine with me, if you will, a snowfall.
the catastrophic peace of a winter morning, grey skies and icy windows framed by flakes laid to rest
frostbitten breezes wind through heavy-laden branches, sending clouds of snow swirling through the air as if from a powder-puff against a grandmother's cheek
wandering rays of sunlight find their way through the cloud cover
and it's beautiful.