"So this is what they call snow-white," I
told myself, standing by my apartment’s kitchen window. The foot-deep snow on
our building's backyard covered everything underneath it - the walkways, roads
and green grasses.
The slanted roof of the apartment building across from
ours doesn't look brown anymore - a thick layer of ice has given it a new look,
a December look.
The blue sky above doesn't look blue either - it looks
snow-white! The cotton-like snow floating down from heavens above makes space
for itself on whatever it sees below - cars, bicycles, trees, stone benches, fields,
roofs of houses and bus stands... the list goes on. The trees that once
displayed the splendour of green now stand frail. They lost their leaves in fall
and now they are nothing but leafless branches and boughs. Branches that once
hung leaves and fruits now hang nothing but ice, white and lifeless ice. With
trunks under a white blanket, they crave warmer weather when new leaves will
dress them again in green.
The wind chill of winter sends shivers to the bones. Even
four layers of clothing are sometimes not enough in my battle against this
cruel winter. This is the first time in my life I am experiencing frigid
winter. For someone who spent all her life in tropical Bangladesh, Minnesota
winter is not just cold, it is extremely cold. I walk on the streets with a
woollen cap that covers my head and ears, and thick gloves that protect my
hands against frostbite. I try to keep my feet warm; I wear woollen socks, and a
pair of Chinese Laundry winter boots with a soft faux fur lining for extra
warmth and comfort. These boots are some of the first things I have purchased
online since coming to the U.S.
I don’t see the squirrels about me anymore. The furry squirrels,
which once frisked all around the City of St. Cloud, went into hiding. They are
trying to stay safe and warm in the nests they built in the branches of trees.
And like humans, squirrels too are children of Mother Nature and fear her cruel
winter. In autumn I saw the neighbourhood squirrels busy; they were eating and collecting
nuts, seeds and grains to survive the long winter.
The footpaths are now under deep snow and one has to
be careful not to lose footing. The shelters at the bus stops are covered with snow.
The passengers gather inside in the hope to feel a little warm, but the wind
chill cannot be escaped. With watery eyes, melting noses and frozen lips, they
wait for the buses to come on time. With their eyes on the snow-white city,
they probably pray that spring would come sooner than the other years, or at
least that’s what I have been praying since the arrival of winter.
White has its own beauty though. The fresh snow gives
me a feeling of purity that a very few other things have ever given. It's the
colour of the snow that reduces the harshness of winter to its minimum.
Ironically enough, it's this bitter season that clothes the world in the colour
of peace and purity!
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