Barren and blast, no other people just the loose deep snow, fighting for every step. Pushing itself back down into me, to become me, to change me a bit at a time. My feet sink deep, and I struggle to regain movement. Sometimes I lay there with my face against the snow, forcing my body to retain heat and expel the cold, melt the drifts around me, survive the glacier again.
The stone fence pushes back against me, rocks from ages ago frozen again and proving their weight. I slide my hand into the crevices and wait for something. I still wait today. You swore something would happen.
The fog and clouds drape the wetness upon me, slight weight and bitter. The trail still so far away and strange footprints against mine. I trace with a stick and watch the stick sink deeper and deeper into the white.
Turn the corner, turn the corner, head for the rocks and home.