;; prologue
Saskatchewan winters are the harshest I’ve ever known. The wind snaps at you and the chill creeps into your bones. The snakes of snow slither along the banks and over the roads to find new homes in drifts and banks in a foreign field. It is gorgeous; the whites, the grays, the purples, the blacks. Landscapes like these are picturesque and are often depicted of in many small-town artists’ creations. Nighttime is when I find it to be the best though. The moon casts a reflection upon the white counter-part of the frozen tundra that once was farmland months ago. When that billowing wind sweeps in, small flakes scatter against the black sky that is dotted with the shimmering flecks of stars. The sky seems oblivious to the torturous temperature. It teases you to no end, "Come and enjoy me, but suffer the consequences of a frozen body." To this season, I gave my life unintentionally, yet I was saved by something I didn’t even know existed.