heightened senses

I can hardly believe it's real snow
Falling more like ash...
Floating.
Cold enough to happen yet not enough to chill.
The wind only evident by sound.
My footsteps seem louder they've ever been.
Like a movie with edited sound to manipulate emotion...
Producing dexterity and rawness.
Surreal.
I can only hope that in a matter of time everything becomes purposeful...
The feelings.
The intensity.
It might be time.
It might be an exaggeration.
I hope it's real...
Because this feeling of possibility is cleansing.