A blizzard blew over her house...

Mrs B looked out of her window. It was a late January morning. A blizzard has been blowing over her house for the last two days. She had gotten used to pushing aside the curtain across her window pane, with the hope that it would be sunny and green outside. But no. All she saw was little chips of ice and snow dancing wildly outside her window sill. The flakes moved in random, crazy patterns as the gusty wind tried to discpline and direct their motion, but in vain. It seemed to her that the firns were a willful herd of young sheep amusing themselves in the wonders that lay in their path- the twigs, the fences, the bare tree trunk..the occasional fur hat on a woman's head- and the forceful wind trying to shepherd them towards a destination that was still green...Wasn't this what was happening? Somebody may have argued Brownian motion. Didn't Einstein have an equation to predict this crazy dancing behaviour of the young sheep? Sorry, I mean the ice crystals.
Mrs B now accepted this whole thing as a ritual. But the snow strom had lasted only for the last few days! How quickly she had ascribed her temporay instict to being a ritual!
Today as she performed her "ritual" of pushing aside the curtain, unwittingly thinking of the show flakes..she was in for a "surprise"! There was no dance of the ice flakes. The sky was blue and the sun was shining. The storm has passed? Now why should this be a surprise, Mrs B never stopped to ask herself. For obviously the weather does change. But not to her. No sir. Not today.
In front of her lay a frosted country. The world looked white. It was inconcievable for her to think that beneath that white vineer lay colours , smells and objects that she was familiar with. The cars, the pavement, the gardens, the rooftops, the chimneys ,the shops, the randomely strewn toys in the backyard....everything was white. As the Sun was starting to melt the first of the snow crystals off the more pointed edges, it seemed to her that they were hanging on for dear life-from every little curvature of the fences, street lights and the queer bent of branches- fearing loss of their grip; fearing porobably that their unique identity would be lost for sure upon hitting the hard ,all encompassing white world beneath.
It did not seem possible to her that a snowwtorm , even one that lasted for a few days, could cover everything with such a precesion. Why there must have been an elf who was playing around with a frosting cone and had managed to cover every nook and corner!! As her mind was coming to terms with this white canopied world that lay in front, her eyes saw for the first time things the way that had always been. She couldn't belive she missed this! The incredible shapes that the trees took. The one next to her door looked like an old man stooping and being suported by a rather crude looking stick. And the one over there? Why it looked just like a question mark! The lamp post did not look like a lamp post at all. It rather looked a an angry eagle perched on a tall and bare tree trunk!
As she hurriedly dressed and made her way to work she saw an entirely different world that she thought she knew so well. All along the way- the same way she went everyday- she encountered images and figures that made her little world look like a fairyland.
So..were colours and smells the only things preventing her from finding the perfect neverland right where she lived and even wanted to escape from? She was in no mood to think...the figures had captured her imagination..and she was already discovering this ever known world once again and it was captivating. Was she crazy in thinking she ever wanted to leave? All she now wanted was to see a prince on a white horse. And something tells me she just might succeed..