December is finally here, without its magical snow, unfortunately...we can all feel the sad effects of the global warming and it actually scares me to think that my future children aren't going to feel joy of winters that once were, the winters of my childhood, when you couldn't wear light clothes once November started and everything was covered in a thick layer of fluffy snow, with our windows painted with frost flowers for most of the winter, until the first snowdrops shyly peaked from the snow.
The houses in my neighbourhood from back home, in Transylvania, were all covered in snow, with gigantic icicles hanging from every corner of their roofs. Everything used to be white. It would snow for days and nights, continuously - there was that much snow everywhere that my grandad used to carry me on sleigh from in front of our block of flats, for few kilometres, until we got to a nearby forest where we would have so much winter fun that hours later, would get back home during an apocalyptic snow storm, to find our feet and clothes soaking wet and our noses and ears so red that Rudolph would've been jealous.
The snowflakes were gigantic and whenever I wasn't out, I loved starring out the window of my 3rd floor flat, watching them dance chaotically for hours, until they transformed everything they touched into a soft, thick blanket of snow. Drinking a hot cocoa and reading were really the hygge highlights of those times.
The best winters were those when we had a White Christmas too. That meant that my friends and I (we were a group of four girls), would go carolling from flat to flat until it was too late for us to be out and until our pockets were full of cash - people used to give us money once the carolling was done, and everything would happen while outside was snowing so hard - everything was white and frozen. Snowing on Christmas Eve. A true miracle now that I come to think about it. It's not that I miss those times, my soul is actually broken from never getting to live those experiences ever again.
I wasn't going to write about the best memories of my life, but here I am. Winter has that force, that power, of carrying your soul away, down into the realm of nostalgia and fine memories, where you're a child and everything is still possible because dreams do come true. Do you remember?
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