Snow

Lisa 侯思缘 210110113

"The wind has the taste of Winter." I sat in the window, looking at the snow outside the window, covering the human world. This Winter came later than usual.

I often think, during a snowy day, that the other half of Love and oneself are together in the same snow; this life is also together.

Winter in my eyes is not cold; snow is not constrained. I think the Winter is synonymous with romance and freedom. The weather gradually turns cool, wild geese are flying in groups toward the south; I can't take my eyes off of them as they disappear into the margin, without any constraint, carefree flight, free to fly to any place they want to go.

The sunset glow in Winter is especially beautiful, with all kinds of colors mixed together, like layers of ink painting. Sometimes I fantasize whether there will be a world in the sky where there are four seasons; there was winter and so beautiful sunsets. But then I felt that they are a landscape in their own right. They don't need any decorations, nor do they need any flowery words to describe them. They are what they are, and they are the scene alone. I quietly watched the last red disappear in the sky; the sky is a blue, no white clouds, as if the sunset faded, there would be no good scenery to see. Maybe this is the charm of Winter.

The bright lights in the city were looming, and the cars shuttling back and forth on the road were in front of me. I looked at all of this.

Slowly, it became completely dark, and the lights were brighter. It was the rush hour, and the road was clogged with traffic. I exhale on the window, the white fog slowly emerges; I wrote on the words "I love you", delicate and beautiful, like a thousand crystals, very beautiful.

In Winter, snow is of course indispensable; whenever I see a piece of snow falling from the sky, my heart always feels very beautiful. Such as the snow under the thick, but also to step on a few footprints, so that the white snow will appear in a few concave footprints. But it's not a big deal. When the snow falls for a while, the footprints will fill up again. I have always believed that snow also has a residual temperature, and everything in the world has a residual temperature; for example, the residual temperature of rain is the joy of farmers after watering their crops, the residual temperature of light is the last spiritual comfort for people in the trough, and the residual temperature of sunset is the last ray of sunset falling to the horizon. The remaining temperature of the snow may be the vast sea of people to see you only with one eye and are hurrying to separate.

I do not know how to describe the Winter; it is not like Spring, which grasps the law of the recovery of all things in the world, it is not like summer with scorching weather, and more not like autumn with cicada melody, but I just like the winter, like this winter, even if it is monotonous, I still believe that the winter born from my pen is destined to be unusual.

Finally, it fades and dries up, making its own color.