These snowflakes hold secrets.
Snow, you see, is a beauty admired from afar.
Its patterned speckles dance and prance and flutter down from the sky, swirling and swaying until it gently lands. They all come down this way. Gracefully, like magic, pure magic.
But as we grow older, isn’t it that we start to lose the desire to go out in the snow? Is it that we lose this desire or is it merely suppressed by our roles of adulthood? Maybe it’s because we’ve truly realized the beauty of it and choose it watch it from afar instead.
There is something breathtaking about untouched snow. It’s like we are letting life take its course, we are letting things be, we are letting things fall into place.
Maybe it’s only me, but snow is nostalgia. It makes people think and reminisce. And it definitely makes people reflect on themselves as well as what they have experienced in their lives. Snow is innocence, simplicity, the little things that make the world beautiful.
And as I stare out the blanket of white outside my window, I feel whole.
