As he looked out of the window, he observed that it had begun to snow. The first snow of the season, despite the weather guys saying that there would be none this year.
His heart filled with joy. For some reason, since he was a child, he had enjoyed snowfall, year after year. He looked forward to his drive home in the snow today, so he quickly finished the work for the day and stepped out of his office. The cold wind welcomed him and he responded with a bright smile and by zipping his jacket to it’s extreme. The weather delighted him, made him feel creative. The silence, the gloom, the flakes all seemed to touch him deep inside and he felt grateful for being alive. He didn’t mind the cold, for it was only a reminder of the warmth that awaited him at home. He thought of his warm bed, the soft blanket and the book that, he had thought, he would read on such an evening. He wished for it to snow all night, so that the next day he could see and enjoy the beautiful sight of Mother Nature wrapped in a beautiful sheet of white. Everyone around him was running from the safety of the office to that of the car, but not him. He enjoyed every bit of being in the snow. He looked up and saw the thousand, no the million, flakes, like little fluffs of cotton, floating in the air. A sight that made one dizzy, in a good way. Soon, he was in his car, which was still warm. It had been a sunny day. He didn’t like the warmth so he opened the window to let the cold air in and be one with nature.
Driving, his eyes alighted on a family by the side of the road. A father, a mother and a son – shabbily dressed, holding on to each other to keep the cold away, it seemed. The father and the mother had a bundle of wood under their arms and they were trying to keep it dry and untouched by the snow. The clothes on them were not sufficient, by a long way, to keep them warm in that kind of weather. They were hurrying off to somewhere, most probably to the place they called home. The father’s face was lined with worries- of all the work that he would not get in the coming days because of the snow, of all the food that will not be on the plates of his family, if it didn’t stop snowing soon. Immediately an image jumped in to his mind-of a family huddled together in a shed, with walls that were not strong enough to keep the wind out, a roof that was not hardy enough to hold the weight of any amount of snow.
Then his car was past them, and so was the image or any thought of the family.
His eyes now saw a beautiful hillside, trees covered with snow, and the houses dotting the hillside making the sight look like a set from a Christmas movie. “Winter is the best season of the year”, he thought to himself.
His heart filled with joy. For some reason, since he was a child, he had enjoyed snowfall, year after year. He looked forward to his drive home in the snow today, so he quickly finished the work for the day and stepped out of his office. The cold wind welcomed him and he responded with a bright smile and by zipping his jacket to it’s extreme. The weather delighted him, made him feel creative. The silence, the gloom, the flakes all seemed to touch him deep inside and he felt grateful for being alive. He didn’t mind the cold, for it was only a reminder of the warmth that awaited him at home. He thought of his warm bed, the soft blanket and the book that, he had thought, he would read on such an evening. He wished for it to snow all night, so that the next day he could see and enjoy the beautiful sight of Mother Nature wrapped in a beautiful sheet of white. Everyone around him was running from the safety of the office to that of the car, but not him. He enjoyed every bit of being in the snow. He looked up and saw the thousand, no the million, flakes, like little fluffs of cotton, floating in the air. A sight that made one dizzy, in a good way. Soon, he was in his car, which was still warm. It had been a sunny day. He didn’t like the warmth so he opened the window to let the cold air in and be one with nature.
Driving, his eyes alighted on a family by the side of the road. A father, a mother and a son – shabbily dressed, holding on to each other to keep the cold away, it seemed. The father and the mother had a bundle of wood under their arms and they were trying to keep it dry and untouched by the snow. The clothes on them were not sufficient, by a long way, to keep them warm in that kind of weather. They were hurrying off to somewhere, most probably to the place they called home. The father’s face was lined with worries- of all the work that he would not get in the coming days because of the snow, of all the food that will not be on the plates of his family, if it didn’t stop snowing soon. Immediately an image jumped in to his mind-of a family huddled together in a shed, with walls that were not strong enough to keep the wind out, a roof that was not hardy enough to hold the weight of any amount of snow.
Then his car was past them, and so was the image or any thought of the family.
His eyes now saw a beautiful hillside, trees covered with snow, and the houses dotting the hillside making the sight look like a set from a Christmas movie. “Winter is the best season of the year”, he thought to himself.
1 comment:
That was a very interesting article. I liked the contrasts between the descriptions of the guy who likes the snow and the family.
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