In the beginning, it was overcast and foggy, the wind rustled through the barren limbs, flakes of snow smattered across the lines. It was a somber time, a time to meditate and watch life for a bit, reflect on the past times. Passage of moments edging onwards. Clouds began to boil, wind was gaining volume and the flakes more numerous.
High noon, the skies were dark and splattered with white. The ground was embracing a blanket. Intensity of the wind gained. Howling across the land, flakes dancing sideways. White blanket fluttering off in to drifts. Brown earth ushering forth, covered by ribbons of white, climbing ever higher.
Roadways obscured by clouds of white boiling over them. Icy sheen covered in slick white cloth. Spinning flakes, swirling over windshields obscuring sight. Highway shoulder a parking spot. Time passing as the land changed to a blinding white. Seeing no further ahead then the length of arm.
Into the night the screech of the wind drove the white flakes. Slashing into the grasses, attaching to the trees. Highway a white sledding trail, no huskies mushing. Cars along the roadway, waiting for snow to stop, wind to cease. High overhead the stars shine through, snow has stopped. Wind shrieks again, blasting snow into objects in its path.
Sun rises on a clear day covered by the drifting snow. Blinding for a bit, giving way to clear spots. Wind does not abate, racing over the land. Life is sputtering, animals in their burrows and dens. Birds buffeted overhead, flying erratic into the wind. Travelers braving the howling snow across the roadway. Mounds of white, monuments to the call of nature. And the clock doth tick on with a different beat.
Now that the saving of time is back. Leave it alone.