An icy, angry wind raced along, as if it needed to be somewhere quickly, heedless of the things it crashed into. As it went, it picked up snow flakes that had been lying quite peacefully on a soft blanket of the ground, throwing them about, carelessly tossing them aside. It furiously pushed past the people trying to shovel their driveways, tearing their scarves off of their necks and carrying them far, far away before dropping them. The people, like the trees and the buildings, were just another nuisance, another reason for the wind to speed up. Suddenly, without warning, the wind, as if hearing something or someone call it, spun around and raced off in another direction. This time, however, the wind was much gentler. With a new direction, it was given a new purpose. It slowed around trees, gently tousling their leaves. The trees blew and whispered, singing a quiet song that grew into a symphony. The wind brushed water off of flowers, before finally stopping, slowing to a finish in its long journey of the day.