Mounds of White

The wind whipped around and across the highway, making everything pristine, white and a bit white-knuckled as I drove along.  Instead of being afraid, however, that I'd be blown off of the highway, I quickly became fixated by the mounds of white all around me, on land and in the sky.  It was as if I was tucked into a cloud, with all puffy, white surfaces looking the same, regardless of whether I looked up or down or sideways.  Winter can be inconvenient and even treacherous, but on that little bit of highway at that given moment, winter was enchanting and mysterious.