The weather has been awful these last few days. Rain, a cold wind that cuts through every piece of clothing and a cloudy sky had started to detoriorate my happy mood. Although I really like the winter, I can't wait for the spring to start.
Today, when I was walking from the auditorium to my house, I couldn't help the warm, fuzzy feeling of soon-to-be spring developing inside of me. Some rays of sunlight pierced through the cold, thick clouds, as if the spring was poking the winter with a stick, suggesting that it was time for him to get off his lazy ass and disappear.
An old woman, somewhere in her eighties, was standing in her front yard with a brownish bag in her hands. She was wearing a not so fashionable trench coat combined with basic black shoes. The plastic cap on her head gave away that she might have expected sudden rain on her trip from the yard to the other side of the street. She gently pushed open the fence in front of her, and started moving towards a green patch of grass on the other side of the road. It took a considerable amount of time for her to reach the grass, given that her accuracy was not equal to that of a dartling teenager. From the moment her feet touched the grass, dozens of pigeons landed right before the woman. She opened up her bag, and unleashed a large amount of old bread, as if she had been saving it up until the very moment the sun started shining again and she could go outside to feed it to the birds.
I couldn't help but smile. At moments like these, I want to slap myself for not having a camera on me. Spring is crawling up on us. I like it.
L.
Today, when I was walking from the auditorium to my house, I couldn't help the warm, fuzzy feeling of soon-to-be spring developing inside of me. Some rays of sunlight pierced through the cold, thick clouds, as if the spring was poking the winter with a stick, suggesting that it was time for him to get off his lazy ass and disappear.
An old woman, somewhere in her eighties, was standing in her front yard with a brownish bag in her hands. She was wearing a not so fashionable trench coat combined with basic black shoes. The plastic cap on her head gave away that she might have expected sudden rain on her trip from the yard to the other side of the street. She gently pushed open the fence in front of her, and started moving towards a green patch of grass on the other side of the road. It took a considerable amount of time for her to reach the grass, given that her accuracy was not equal to that of a dartling teenager. From the moment her feet touched the grass, dozens of pigeons landed right before the woman. She opened up her bag, and unleashed a large amount of old bread, as if she had been saving it up until the very moment the sun started shining again and she could go outside to feed it to the birds.
I couldn't help but smile. At moments like these, I want to slap myself for not having a camera on me. Spring is crawling up on us. I like it.
L.
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