“But Snow has a peculiar quality: she renews everything she touches. I begin to see things I’d never noticed, as lines and shapes emerge out of nowhere.” Exactly! That’s why I love winter, and don’t really consider it a season of death.
yeah…it reminds me of my first experience of snowfall on my birthday….years ago in one tiny town near shimla. it felt as if some painter was clearing the canvas of all colours just to draw the prettiest picture ever. winter by far is the best of the times in a year.
Parmanu 
Ya know, there’s no hint in Google Reader that this is a multi-page post. I’m surprised that WordPress feeds don’t do a better job with that.
Yes. Once I noticed this I started putting numbers in the post itself, to indicate that there is something that will follow “1”.
“But Snow has a peculiar quality: she renews everything she touches. I begin to see things I’d never noticed, as lines and shapes emerge out of nowhere.” Exactly! That’s why I love winter, and don’t really consider it a season of death.
“That’s why I love winter, and don’t really consider it a season of death.”
Dave, it’s not the season, it’s just in my mind these days. Inexplicable.
lovely!
Exactly, Rash – I cannot get over the loveliness of Snow.
Mmmmm.
Even though even Bombay winters turn me into an icicle.
What’s colder than an icicle?!
yeah…it reminds me of my first experience of snowfall on my birthday….years ago in one tiny town near shimla. it felt as if some painter was clearing the canvas of all colours just to draw the prettiest picture ever. winter by far is the best of the times in a year.