Soundproof Winter

Entry by - Macy McLean

Age - 14

The park was always quiet in winter. The snow had settled days ago and yet more snow fell. Little flurries of dainty snowflakes, each landing individually to create a blanket of white, smothering the remaining grass patches. The biting air collides with my bare skin and a shiver resonates down my spine. I look up and observe that all the once colourful trees are now bare and alone. Their branches painted in the snow rather than leaves. A rope that decorates a hefty oak has frozen solid and dances slightly, caught in the winter wind.

Everyone here must be cold. For we are a pack of dragons with steamy breath that can fight off the frost. Our golden scales protrude from our armour and award us with flaws that the cold claws at feverishly.

The metal bench that I am perched on looking out, towards the grove of trees, is cold and pierces my skin even through the material of my clothes. Painful is a word to describe the sensation, painful but anchoring me to reality. Across the plain of grass, a group of children are participating in a snowball fight. The sounds of their screams and laughter breaking the longing silence.

An old fountain is trickling away a few benches along, the sound of the water making the silence seem lonely. The pond across from it has been frozen for a day yet the ice is thick enough for the ducks to tap along to the island. Tap, tap, tap. The pond is surrounded only by two people. A young couple stood on the bridge. They are looking out beyond the madness of this world and seem to be enjoying the solitude it also provides.

The dizzying madness that being alone and quiet in a peaceful place like this can sometimes block out. The park at winter is soundproof in a way but also at the same time, not at all.