The Hunt is On…

My feet cut through the snow like chewing on a crunchy cookie. My breath puffs in the air like smoke coming from a chimney. My heart pounds like a drum preparing for war. The cold bites at my face like Grandma pinching the baby’s cheeks. The tree branches scratch at my skin like angry fingernails. I climb the ladder as if it were Mt. Rushmore. I sit waiting patiently… The Hunt is On!