I look forward to freedom as if it were the road that I am driving on. Freedom is the "N" on my compass that the magnet is drawn to. I hear my name being called and naturally, I turn. February reappropriated April and the world isn't yet mad. You stole the culture of the warmer months to make the cold just a memory. Snow happened, but we have to try to remember it. We remember it by the white color, the lack of people on the streets, the slow motivation. We can't remember what it felt like. Although we remember the sensory perception while the feeling no longer exists, we cannot forget that the snow came and went.