Winter has arrived, and with it, the first dreamlike
snowfall. The beauty of snow lies not in its glamorous appearance, but in
its pure and serene soul. As I push open my window in the morning, a world
of white greets me, exuding endless elegance and tranquility. I cannot find
the words to describe this scene, but I feel a sense of indescribable
emotion. In life, moments of emotion often sneak up on us and touch our
hearts.
Walking to school, I immerse myself in the quiet beauty of the snow.
Thirteen winters have passed since my childhood days of running and playing
in the snow. Now, as a thirteen-year-old, I quietly catch the snowflakes in
my hands. "This one has six points!" I exclaim in delight. Though they may
form a blanket on the ground, I still see each snowflake distinctly. It
seems that some things never change, no matter how old we get. The cold
touch of the snow on my fingers brings me back to reality. Oh, the snow is
so big and beautiful! It must be a year of abundance.
In this silver-white world, my red figure adds a touch of passion and hope
to humanity. Red and white may clash, but I bloom harmoniously with the
snowflakes in the cold winter. Snowflakes keep falling into my hat and
around my neck. Others may find this annoying, but I see it as a greeting
from the snow fairies.
"Like a sudden spring breeze, thousands of pear trees bloom." This is the
admiration of Cen Shen; "An old man in a bamboo hat and a straw cape,
fishing alone in the cold river snow." This is the choice of Liu Zongyuan;
"A thousand miles of yellow clouds and white sunsets, with north wind
blowing geese and snow falling." This is the observation of Gao Shi. What
more can I say? After all, I am not Cen Shen, Gao Shi, or Liu Zongyuan. I
don't have their extraordinary talent, so I can only turn my love for snow
into a silent, white expression in this world.
"There is nothing that can make one linger, except for snow. Even without
the splendor of spring flowers or the exuberance of summer grass." I have
recited these lines to the snow more than once. Although I know the
scientific explanation behind snow, I still stubbornly see it as the wings
of angels. I do not love its appearance, only its soul.
Snow still falls quietly, covering houses, roads, and everything in sight.
In the midst of it all, I realize that beauty can be so simple. |