It snowed again in the middle of the night, and the snow in the northeast was always so temperamental, and when it snowed heavily, it really snowed.
I went to the window, opened it, and watched the snowflakes fall from the dark sky like scattered flowers. They sometimes rotate, sometimes tilt, sometimes vertically, and land on the windowsill outside the window, and sometimes a few mischievous snowflakes fly into the house.
I reached out to catch the snowflakes that flew in, and before I could observe, it had turned into small droplets of water. Will it blame me for my ruthlessness?
The wind was blowing, and I saw that the snowflakes were dancing faster, and I stood there, not daring to reach out again to pick it up, for fear of ruining the feast.
Dim street lights, the merchant's all-night sign lights provide a glimmer of light for the white flying snowflakes, lest it lose its direction.
The road outside the window was already covered with a thin layer of snow, and sometimes cars would pass by, pressing out two shallow rut marks, and soon they were covered by snow.
A fresh smell filled my nose, and I voraciously breathed in the cool, clean smell, like an alcoholic coveting the last glass of wine on the table, like a dry land lusting for the last drop of rain.
I remember when I was a child, I liked snow the most, especially when it was snowing heavily, I could play games about snow with my friends and play all day without getting tired. But adults don't like heavy snow.
The snow outside the windows was getting heavier and heavier, and the ruts on the road had been filled in. Suddenly I felt that I could not feel the joy of snow in hiding in the house, so I put on thick clothes and boots and ran downstairs.
The foot had just stepped on the snow, so soft, it seemed to be stepping on the cotton. With each step, there will be a "rustling, rustling" sound under your feet, which is the most beautiful sound in winter.
The snow fell softly on my head and on my shoulders, as if trying to put a hat and scarf on me. I circled a few times in the snow, as if in a snow-white fairy tale world, and I was the beautiful and proud princess, dancing with my prince, and the snowflakes became our accompaniment.
I stepped on neat rows of footprints in the snow, and I was swearing that this was my territory. I gently brought my ear close to a thick branch next to me, trying to hear the sound of snow, but I didn't hear it, only the sound of the wind blowing to the remnants of the leaves.
Maybe I was farther away, and I got a little closer, not daring to breathe loudly, not daring to have the slightest distraction, and I seemed to hear the soft, gentle sound of snow falling. If it weren't for the silence of the night, I'd probably have to cheer loudly.
The branches of the surrounding trees were already covered with a thick layer of snow. The snow was not enough to bend its branches now, and he would not be able to bear it for the next night.
A thick layer of snow had fallen on my head, and I should be a lonely snowman by now. It was a world of snow all around, and occasionally there were deep ruts left by taxis, but soon they were filled with snow.
They don't seem to like that someone has ruined their drawings. I looked back at the rows of footprints I had stepped on, but I couldn't find any trace. There was no my territory, it was a world of snow.
The snow continues to fall, but I can no longer hear it, is it that I have become complicated? Is my heart no longer at peace? In the face of such a snowy scene, how calm my heart is like water.
The snow was still falling, and the only thing I could hear was the sound of "rustling, rustling" under my feet.