Dreams Amid Falling Snow

Dreams Amid Falling Snow

 

"There are dreams in my life, and snow falls in flurries" — I don't know why, but every time snow falls on a winter evening, this phrase hidden in my heart always tumbles out, like an icicle hanging from the eaves: clear and translucent, yet wrapped in a touch of warmth from bygone days.

 

My earliest snow-related dream lives in the old courtyard of my hometown. Back then, I'd wait eagerly for the depths of winter, hoping that when the first snowflake drifted down, Grandma would take out the red string hidden on the top of the cabinet and tie it to my jacket. When the snow fell heavily, the entire courtyard would turn pure white; even the withered branches of the old pagoda tree would be draped in soft snow, looking just like the magic staff of an immortal in a story. I loved clutching a hot roasted sweet potato, standing in the snow to count the snowflakes that landed in my palm, watching them melt into tiny droplets in an instant. Yet I somehow felt this "impermanence" was perfect — just like those flickering thoughts in my heart, you don't need to hold them too tight. As long as you know they're there, that's enough.

 

As I grew older, snow became a scene at my desk. One winter night, I worked late into the evening; when I looked up, I suddenly saw snow drifting outside the window. The streetlights tinted the snowflakes warm yellow, and they floated slowly onto the glass, blurring into small patches of mist. In that moment, I thought of my childhood dreams: I wanted to write poems about snow, to walk along snow-covered roads to distant places, and to push open a door one snowy morning and see someone I longed for. Today, I haven't written many poems, and I've traveled to a few far-off places, but every time snow falls, those unspoken wishes still tremble softly with the snowflakes.

 

A few days ago, snow came again. I stood on the balcony, watching children downstairs chase the snow, their laughter drifting up with the flakes. Suddenly, I understood: a dream "amid falling snow" was never about achieving a specific outcome. It's the pure anticipation that comes with snowfall — like how snow covers the earth, temporarily hiding trivial worries and giving a place for the light in your heart to rest. Just like now, the snow is still falling, and the dreams in my heart are gently unfolding with these fluttering snowflakes, never growing cold.