That winter morning, I woke up to a cold cloud of mist as I breathed. I felt a sudden urge to witness the current weather. As I peeped through the window, the mist had painted it white, but when I stepped foot on the wet deck, it seemed as if the mist had married the frost and laid down a carpet of her essence last night and has ascended all the way to the clouds. The sky and the earth had sown themselves together into one cold, silent sphere. The visibility improved and the sky turned a faint yellow. Later, the sun dipped its feet into the ocean of dense clouds and absorbed the cold. A comforting warmth could be felt as if a washed up fluffy towel gave you a warm hug. It got windy in a jiffy of time with palm leaves dramatically swinging around like a star in movies. The wind settled in and the sky went a bluish grey. Then the sphere (the sky and the earth)covered with mist went black. White and golden lights brightened the seam of the stitched sphere and the moon seemed like a low quality picture of a snowball with silence hovering around. Nothing but washed out lights could be seen and the sound of leaves swooshing here and there could be heard as the wind penetrated through them.