Look at a magazine and find a picture that appeals to you. Cut it out, paste it in your notebook and write about it. 
Picture is from Fairbanks Alaska and I do not own it. 

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 I am changing this due to the fact google images is easier to get then from a magazine. Now that I got that little detail out of the way, let’s begin. Please be warn I will properly make this more like a story and most of this will be a free write without me going back and rewriting it. 

The sun stains the sky with pinks and purples as it slowly sinks below the horizon masked by a screen of furs. Distant from the heavens is the cold ground, where ice creeks and groans as it spreads its deadly fingers across a glossy surface, and the slumbering trees. In the distance a abandon farm lies pass an iron bridge, that once carried the lives blood of the land. Closer was an impressive estate that even in its faded state still gives a glory that ravels the nature that slowly chokes it. In front of the estate lies a black river of ice that crumbles more and more each passing season. The people are gone, but the trees that slumber in there icy cocoons remember. They remember the laughter of children who skated across the frozen recesses of the pond, and the yells of mothers who beckoning their young ones in for night was near. The fathers came from the barns, and woods bundles of wood clutched to their sides. They remember the bellowing of cattle in the barn and the whinnies of the horses. But those are gone now the only sounds being that of a lone wolf, or the screams of a pheasant as a fox kills it. The pond is empty of children and remains pristine in its natural state, waiting for the thawing of spring. The trees bow their branches in the cold wind, that signals that winter has only begun and that the emptiness will remain.