I love the lack of sound sometimes when it snows. The sound of an absence of sound is what I’m trying to describe. There is a kind of muffled silence that is produced by snow silently landing around you, while all surfaces are covered by puffy snowflakes.

It’s empty, but not like a void.

It’s silent, but somehow not noiseless.

It’s solitude without loneliness.

It’s the sound of snow falling, but there is no sound.