So, this was the first day of Spring. And we had our first serious (more or less) snow. I suppose that’s logical (?!)…from some odd point of view. The snowfall was as if fallen from fairy tale – thick and fluffy, dancing slowly to the surface to be melted down just in few inches of her and dropped dead into tiny puddles of thousand tears…it was relatively immense for this place and even managed to cover roofs and bushes in a thin layer of flour, as if someone didn’t bother to clean after yesterday pancakes’ cooking.
Anyway, there is something symbolic in the snow on the first day of the spring. As if the Nature tells you: enjoy the show for the last time. An opportunity to breath in a last chill from the air, to walk across the car park and leave white footprints behind. To draw random lines in a snow and watch what picture will appear in the end. A perfect white ending of Times Imperfect, A marked beginning of Times To Come. A promise of spring wrapped into the winters' farewell :-)
Note to myself:
*I think, I need to re-think (hmmm "think to re-think"???!!!) the way this diary is written. I've got to write more of me then of things around me. Have I become reserved about myself? I used to be more opened, I believe. (maybe I just don't remember...) I haven’t noticed when I’ve turned away from specifics to the general things…is this the way to write one’s diary? Anyway, I’ll try to add some aliveness into entries in future…well, that’s the intention, not a promise :-p
Anyway, there is something symbolic in the snow on the first day of the spring. As if the Nature tells you: enjoy the show for the last time. An opportunity to breath in a last chill from the air, to walk across the car park and leave white footprints behind. To draw random lines in a snow and watch what picture will appear in the end. A perfect white ending of Times Imperfect, A marked beginning of Times To Come. A promise of spring wrapped into the winters' farewell :-)
Note to myself:
*I think, I need to re-think (hmmm "think to re-think"???!!!) the way this diary is written. I've got to write more of me then of things around me. Have I become reserved about myself? I used to be more opened, I believe. (maybe I just don't remember...) I haven’t noticed when I’ve turned away from specifics to the general things…is this the way to write one’s diary? Anyway, I’ll try to add some aliveness into entries in future…well, that’s the intention, not a promise :-p