Dreaming of Snow

Your eyes are wide open but you cannot see what is coming next, you feel and hear the pressure building and your being reverberates with the immense noise, it hits you and you lean to take the force standing your ground and pressing hard against an invisible wall, one false step and it will take you over, spindrift lashes at exposed flesh and rucksack straps whip into your face. Snow is moving, picked up and deposited in wave like formations, sastrugi sculptures, the visible carvings of the wind. Face burning and pinching with cold, eyes watering, your breath is sucked away making speaking impossible against the noise and lack of oxygen. (Field notes, 17 November 2016)


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