I was sitting in the coffee shop of a ski resort. I had a hot cup of coffee in front of me and some warm toast and butter. I insisted on the table with the window view of the snow-filled mountains. I could almost touch the snow if it weren't for the glass separating us. The vision in front of me was crystal clear. The resort was carved into the mountain. Fresh green trees could be seen peeping out from the white snow.

I was deep in conversation with this friend of mine when I saw a brown patch of mud begin to fall. What followed was surreal. I gaped in silent wonder as we were caught in an avalanche. Layer by layer, the snow came down heavily. The glass was the only thing separating this giant green pine tree and my frail body. I was in no pain, simply watching and marveling at the wonder. The colors, so pure, replaying the image in slow motion, again and again, reminding me of my insignificance in contrast to something so mighty.