Tiny flakes of snow come down in flurries onto my waiting Tongue. In the distance, the sun just touches the earth and the sky is saturated with incredible color. In contrast to the blanketed white ground, the sky is painted in incredible color. Deep yellows, bright pinks, and thick layers of purple fill the sky. The sky is spread out in front of me, causing this immense feeling of openness to vibrate through me. I pull in my tongue and close my mouth, my tongue still wet with the snow’s essence. The land all around me is sloping down until it rolls into small hills and tiny valleys. The openness is so powerful, I am compelled to fill it. I yell into the painted sky, and after realizing how quiet I am without the normal reverberations of houses, I yell louder. Finally, I scream at the stop of my lungs, and a flurry of birds are cast into the sky from the closest hill.