When she looked out of the windows, it looked normal. The grills outisde prevented one from having a view in it's entirity. Later, after an hour or so, when she went into the kitchen to fetch something, she could see flakes of snow falling on the cemented path. With absolutely no sound accompanying the fall.
She had never assumed that showflakes would be really that small, about a centimeter in diameter. She had imagined them to be bigger than that. And with a wind raging outide, one that could wreck one's open umbrella, the flakes took a very diagonal approach to the earth.
As she stepped out into the open, small balls of snow landed on her coat, and she reached out to brush them off. Everything was covered in white. And was still being covered. Prints of the soles of different shoes, in assorted sizes lead one to various destinations. Some walked straight while some turned elsewhere. They were then buried in fresh snow, that seemed to fall contiuously.
The front portion on the shoes were masked in white powder, and the feet had to be stamped hard to remove them. She walked slowly on it, for she could slip on a patch of partially melted snow. It had already happenned twice and she didn't want it to occur again.
A white soft blanket is spread outside. It adds a dull light and one could presume that the Sun is out from hiding from amidst the clouds. Pure white snow looks beautiful, indeed.