Seasonal

Winter…
Is it a Dance?
Life?
Poetry?
Magic?
Inspiration?
Mystery?
Thrill?
Beauty?
Miracle?
Dream...

I hate winter. Every mild winter I always think of a pitiful winter scenery, unlike anticipating spring, vivid summer or as lovely and colorful as autumn.

The grass on the ground is wet and covered with mud or a layer of light frost, still growing vigorously. Freezing fog frequently shrouds the city in the early mornings. The sunlight rarely shines on the earth, slipping down and drowning in the river.

Only the first snowfall of the season can significantly change the mood, bring joy and happiness.

Starting slowly at first, it is very fine snow, barely developed, like semolina. Particles then become bigger and bigger, turning into slow snow flies and then into flakes which fly upward. Like at home the first snow is in large flakes which always fly upward.

The air on the first day of snow is special - crispy and refreshing. You breathe it in through your mouth; stand with your head up, looking at the snowflakes with squinched eyes in the dim glow of the streetlamp. It is still unclear why you take multiple blurry pictures on your phone camera. Especially when it’s your first snow, when you are away from home forever…

The snow is most cruel at night; it keeps your footprints and reveals old habits of staying awake until morning and going around in circles. You try to hear the tiny voices of the stars in the twilight but the clock on the wall says: ''Tick-tock'' frightening you to the point of death. Your fingers are numb, pale and cold, and teeth begin to chatter. The tea on the table has cooled and in white captivity you lose yourself in silence, left without a map and just a broken old compass, and you start humming a tune familiar only to you.

In the morning the entire county has been blanketed in a thick layer of white with villages, valleys and mountain peaks wrapped in a serene, snowy silence. The winter wonderland scenery is breathtaking. It’s the perfect start to the magic of the holiday season.

I really miss the genuine beautiful winter of my childhood. The frosts get stronger at night and snowdrifts grow higher. Your cozy blanket becomes your dearest friend and at these times you don’t feel guilty about staying indoors the whole day.

A hundred and one nights before spring and just thousands of steps away from the goal and already the anticipation mode is on knowing that tomorrow will be better!

Winter challenge is definitely not for the faint of heart. Brace yourself, winter is coming!