Every year, when winter introduces itself again, I wake with hopeful thoughts. I shoot up expecting to see the earth covered in a sheet of white beauty. To feel the serenity and peacefulness that rushes down my back like a cold, cleansing shower. But every morning I'm dissappointed yet again. After a while it gets tiring to be disappointed over and over so I gave up. I gave up until last week, when the temperatures suddenly dropped into the negative values. It was sunday morning when I jumped out of bed only to find that my expectations were finally fulfilled, it had indeed snowed. It wasn't a lot, but it was there, and that is what I care most about.
It was during mathematics, the last class before we were allowed to go home when I turned to my friend only to find her enchanted by the outdoors a few days later. "Isn't it so pretty?" is all she said. It's funny how everyone complains during the snowless days, about how they had looked forward to the playful days and the cosy nights. But when it actually snows, everyone forgets about this, they look tired, they're not in the mood for cold temperatures, they're not ready to get out of bed in the morning or to smile throughout the day. But the view out the window, the view that I've seen everyday for the past three years, but never like this, would be enough to remind anyone why they wished for snow. It's funny how a bit of snowfall can have two very contrasting effects on people, some go grouchy and some are overcome with joy. I like to think of myself as the second type, the one who always says the cold seasons are their favourite time of the year without hesitation. I must admit that I'm not always cheery during the winter, but in the long run, I appreciate the short days and long nights far more than any other seasons.These pictures are not the view out the window, I don't think I'll ever be able to see that again, but these images capture my first snowy morning quite nicely.