Snow is magical.
You know the snow fairy is about to come when there’s curiously a nice sunny day after consecutive nights of biting cold.
Snow doesn’t fall. Countless tiny flakes choose to descend from the sky. They linger in the air, twirl around gently and charm us with the loveliness as of innocent maidens wandering shyly about with a white daisy on their heads.
Nothing on its way from the sky to the ground seems to be able to alter the pure color of snow. It hides all the darkness away and lets the light sparkle before our eyes.
Unlike rain, snow doesn’t make any sound or give off any smell. As soon as they touch the ground, snowflakes vanish silently, or join their frozen friends scattered on grass. They are noticed without having to inform us of their existence. Sometimes, some abstracted snow maidens enjoy the pleasure of landing on our coats, contemplating our joy before turning again into water.
As we walk on thick layers of snow, leaving our footprints behind, snow tells us that our existence is real, that we, individually, are leaving our own marks on this immense universe. But snow effaces our marks when we don’t notice; and when spring comes, there will be nothing left but dust on the ground.
We keep existing and walking on the same road, waiting for another winter to come…