Last fall has passed without my noticing, so I was taken from having started college, the commute and everything else. And probably now the winter is making me pay for giving me the impression of not having to go on forever more, wrap a blanket of melancholy, sadness and, ultimately, even insomnia.
Until a few years ago I loved the winter: I think it's normal when you're young, you need a break, to stop everything for a while ', to freeze a bad situation and cover them with snow.
Only a couple of years I started to wait for the spring as something necessary, inevitable, invigorating. I began to love the flowers, in fact, to be a po'ossessionata, much to know by heart the order in which all the trees will bloom the most beautiful of my city and beyond. And often, when they are slightly down, get down in the garden and pick one, one only, to put on my desk.
This morning I woke early from an almost sleepless night, in a foul mood. And, looking out the window I saw two little ladybugs walking on glass.
I know it's still January, but I thought it was a sign that spring is really coming.
0 comments:
Post a Comment