As I arrived I observed a picturesque view that looked like it had been lifted from a perfect picture postcard; It was surrounded by tranquillity and serenity, and I noticed a deep muffled silence that was booked by the cracking and growling of the ice under my feet. As I ambled across the glacial snow-capped mountains, sinuous snowflakes landed on my hair as gracefully as a swan; the snow piled up to make a snow tree balancing perfectly, and blending with the trees with suspended icicles, which looked like acrobats doing their antics.


The sub-zero gale tickled my nose as I sauntered down the mountainside –which looked like an ice-cold albino tinged blanket situated on it. I passed through the entrance of the vale; the first thing that caught my eye was a meandering river (it was like a spread out ribbon) with the water gushing under the ice, which was so thin that you could see right through it; its temperature was so polar that one touch could give an abhorrent case of pneumonia. Pines were diffused across the valley; they pines were cover in frosty rising up looking like a polar candle ready to freeze anyone which try to touch it the tip of the ice-cold candle was as sharp as a needle –it was also enough to pierce through your skin, enter your blood cells and cut your veins.

As I exited the vale, I admired the majestic snow-capped mountains — which were bigger than the last time I saw them — for the last time before I left this, snow icy and frosty region.

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