The Silence of White

It is 3:14 am. The world outside is held in a suspension that feels like a held breath. There is a specific weight to the dark when you are awake while everyone else is dreaming, a heavy, velvet stillness that demands you stop lying to yourself. We spend our days adding noise, building walls of chatter to keep the emptiness at bay. We fear the blank space. We fear the moment when the color is drained away and we are left with nothing but the outline of what we have become. But there is a mercy in the blankness, too. It covers the jagged edges of the past. It softens the sharp corners of our regrets. To be buried in white is not to be erased; it is to be given a chance to start from a place where no footprints have yet been left. I wonder if we are ever truly clean, or if we just get better at hiding the tracks we leave behind.

Giulia Avona has taken this beautiful image titled Skiing. It captures that same quiet, heavy stillness that only arrives when the world is covered in white. Does the silence of the snow make you feel hidden, or does it make you feel seen?