Summer and Snow

Last year it snowed, the white untouched perfection just lying there on the ground and I'd go outside my house just to see it, just to breath in the cool pure air. It was either that or sit by my window's side and watch the snow from afar, gazing out at it's perfected glory whenever it was too cold to go out myself. The snow, as pure white as anything never stayed that way for even the snow change in it's season. No, the snow would water out, turn to ice or be picked up so that it wasn't pure snow anymore. Those were the times that the snow was no longer perfected anymore, the time where, like all the inner being of a child a child's thoughts travelled back to themselves and thought the same thought; the same thought that we all share the communion in the idea of making snowmen, skidding, skiing, snowboarding, sliding or simply throwing snowballs at each other in the playful fight that we play. The same idea but the same shared play that leaves  the snow no longer perfected or pure anymore but then, like the snowflakes just knew how to fall and where to fall just by memory they fell and the snow became perfected again, like trickles of light that shine on us all.


Those were the days that it  snowed, even if it didn't on the month of Christmas it always snowed after, always. This year it didn't snow though, the snowflakes never fell upon the ground, in it's stead the tears of the cloud came raining down, the tiniest of hail came, a storm came, the sun came, the wind came but never the snow not ever. Why won't you snow? I asked, looking up towards the cold grey sky and wondering why, I wondered why; I wondered why it wouldn't snow. Winter is coming, they say but how can winter come when the snow never came I asked, they gave no reply for even they were as intrigued and troubled as I was. There was no snow, it didn't snow and thus the climate changed.