A park in winter is a mesmerising sight to see.
When I heaved open the heavy, wooden door, a wonderful white winter world met my waiting eyes. They darted this way and that, scanning the cold scenery which lay before me. A large, white, crisp carpet crept along the icy ground; it was almost untouched except for a thin string of footprints trickling across the white blanket. A snow-clad tree, teeming with icicles, stood majestically as it reached up owards the pale cloudless sky. A modest red-breasted robin occasionally tweeted her melancholy chorus as she perched along on the snowy tree.
In the far distance, faint whooping laughter trickled into my chilly ears. I witnessed a translucent, frozen lake with excited children (wearing lovely ice skates) gliding gracefully around. Their cutting blades sliced perfectly through the ice, sending tiny shards of white crystal into the wintry air. One particularly skilled girl caught my eye. An elaborate sequence of poses, twirls and leaps was performed by her. She suddenly stopped and saw me. Holding up a beautiful pair of skates, she called, “Join me.” I felt wonderful warm joy well up inside me, melting any chills and heating up my icy heart. I was indescribably happy.