I would like to ask how many things can be seen only when snow is laying on the ground.
Today morning I could see I was the first one to leave my building. My footsteps left the first signs on the white steps.
I could also notice that the bus always stop in exactly the same place. The people taking the previous buses have jumped in exactly where I did.
The parents looks exhausted and exasperated while pulling the sledge with their kids, who complain about going too slow, or wanting to go up the hill once more.
Some kids are just laying in the middle of a white field, leaving strangely shaped holes in the snow. Some of them move their arms, so that the shape resemble a butterfly. Some others just get completely wet. Other ones just run while fighting with classical snowballs.
Looking at all this, I just feel old and out of place. It is a pity that the silence and whiteness of the snow is filled with screaming, noise, running, bad words of people who slipper or complain about the tram being late, the traffic being jammed, and trains not working. But on the other side, I don't feel like playing with the snow. It is cold, and wet. I prefer to go home and stay warm, and just look from the window that it is still snowing, since three days without breaks.
Probably my last snow time for a while. It is time.
Today morning I could see I was the first one to leave my building. My footsteps left the first signs on the white steps.
I could also notice that the bus always stop in exactly the same place. The people taking the previous buses have jumped in exactly where I did.
The parents looks exhausted and exasperated while pulling the sledge with their kids, who complain about going too slow, or wanting to go up the hill once more.
Some kids are just laying in the middle of a white field, leaving strangely shaped holes in the snow. Some of them move their arms, so that the shape resemble a butterfly. Some others just get completely wet. Other ones just run while fighting with classical snowballs.
Looking at all this, I just feel old and out of place. It is a pity that the silence and whiteness of the snow is filled with screaming, noise, running, bad words of people who slipper or complain about the tram being late, the traffic being jammed, and trains not working. But on the other side, I don't feel like playing with the snow. It is cold, and wet. I prefer to go home and stay warm, and just look from the window that it is still snowing, since three days without breaks.
Probably my last snow time for a while. It is time.
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