The world is without sound. The soft, fluffy snow beneath my board dampens out all but the wind. It is hard to describe this feeling, the snow is so soft it feels like floating on clouds, yet I cut through it like a knife through sun warm butter. At the same it is harsh, brown reeds and scraping sounds remind me of bumps and ridges and the wind bites in to the skin on my face. There is a kind of flow to it, the softness, the cold and the speed merging to create that special fluid feeling that is powder surfing.