Snow Storm
One typical winter in
That night, when the snow finally stopped, I dragged to return to the school with the thought of sleeping in that narrow bunk with another classmate over it. It usually took me twenty minutes riding my old bicycle. But it was impossible to ride on any wheels that night.
I found myself out in the knee-deep snow long-marching toward the school. I don’t recall what got into my head at the time. I could have stayed at home sleeping in a more comfortable, warmer bed. Maybe it was the snow, which I always loved.
The soft, fresh snow put me in a very good mood. To leave the first foot prints in the snow was like stepping on a new ground. All noises were muffled, dirt covered. My hometown looked to me like a different place. There were hardly any people out at that hour. The drowsiness after dinner was replaced by an animated spirit.
I was going to catch a bus first. But I soon gave up the idea because of the elation of walking in the snow. The silence and the light reflected on the surface of snow had a somewhat magical feel to a city kid like me. That was as close as I could get to “nature.”
As a kid, I always worried that the snow would soon melt into the muddy ground. It seemed to make people behave more like human beings, less aggressive, I mean, and fragile in the face of Nature.
I always distrust those who have no respect for natural phenomenon.
I was too young to think about all of these, of course. How impossible to go back to even our own mind! I was not preoccupied with what was going on in the world, for example, but simple things like finishing school and going to the sea! See the world by myself! Travel! Grow up!
A year later, we were crossing the
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z.z. (2005)
