Author: Pillow Night Talk
Today, the snow was approaching, and I had been hiding at home and did not dare to go out, but I listened to the sound of the wind outside the window and the scene of flying snow in the sky, or appeared in front of me. Perhaps the parting of winter is the most cruel, but the thoughts of winter are even more poignant. Are you missing someone in this cold winter, and where is she or him?
- Caption
Beautiful snowflakes
At a quick glance, the morning star in the west had disappeared into the dark clouds. The dry branches trembled, as if refusing to let the lingling north wind come.
It was about to snow, at a moment when a plum blossom had not yet spread. I stood still, an old black carriage, empty, slowly passing by my side, wondering whether it was carrying the early morning, scattering its dark shadow along the way, and then disappearing from near to far.
No one knows when the first snowflake quietly landed on the earth, but I know that when the first snowflake fell in the palm of my hand, the earth had become a plain white, and even the dark crock pot in the corner had changed its ugly appearance in the past, white, like a soft yi gently held by a plain hand, flashing dazzling light.
The back of the snow radiates a soft light
The most unbearable thing is still the parting in winter, just like the dead leaves bid farewell to the branches of the trees on which I relied, just like the snowflakes leave the fifty thousand feet of the sky. I still remember your distant departure in the north wind, trance between the past years, like a fool's dream, drifting among the snowflakes.
It has never been so calm, until my face sank into the snow, and the boundless ice covered my face, and I no longer remembered you, no longer remembered, that snowflake fell on your forehead.
But the snowflakes still quickly chaoticed the whole sky, and I only saw that one, like a dance, twists and turns, and fell in front of my eyes. You said that every snowflake is a lonely soul, but is she you, where are you?
Snow huts
At that moment, you stopped walking alone in the forest, you looked at the snow, I looked at the cloister behind you, but there was a tree between you and me, between an autumn cool, and on the swing, shook all day of melancholy, shook through a spring and summer.
You say: Every snowflake is a lonely soul, walking alone on the snowy path, watching you go away with a soft back, melting into the woods in the flying snow, so that I can't tell for a moment whether you are leaving or coming back. But I can't think of you as a return, many times I have stood behind you, holding a letter in my hand, waiting for you to turn around, but your look back is still a step slower.
Your look back, or slow down a step of time
Stepping on the creaking snow, the dead trees on both sides, the plum blossoms falling, the zero falling into the mud but the fragrance is the same, the splendor of the snowflakes is scattered on the ground, just think of my thoughts about you, subtle as dust!