Staring through the windows, flakes of snow are floating. Unable to resist the unrelenting gravity, they slowly drift toward the ground. If they were alive, would they be wondering why they are falling? or where they are falling to? Would they wonder if they would be gathered by some young children to make a snowball? or even a snowman? 

Winter has come. Summer has gone. Seasons change. Things change. Time moves forward.  We move forward, adrift, wondering where we would land…