The snow comes swiftly, sheltered by the cold darkness. It thrives at night, setting its snare in the form of an unassuming blanket of crystals. The white softness suffocates and paralyzes. The pale sun fights in weakness to obliterate every last crystal; the clouds counter its cause and only trap the cold air beneath the atmosphere, pressing it down to earth. The freezing environment falls in submission to the ice. The crystalline fields shimmer in radiance, a marvelous display of nature’s jewels. The beauty destroys man’s creations; survival becomes a herculean task. The pure smoothness distorts into hideous, brown piles of slush as horrible machines storm through the frigid barrier, unapologetically marring nature’s wonder. Convenience is a necessity; beauty of this sort is frivolous. Instead of adapting, he alters his surroundings to serve his own purpose. Is he at fault? Who may bestow judgment upon him?