1. Writing
The first snow came. How beautiful it was. It fell silently all day and all night, on the mountains, on the meadows, on the roofs of the lives, and on the graves of the dead. Only river drew a curvy black line on the fully white beautiful ground; leafless trees show more beauty of their branches against the grey sky. How silent it was. All sounds seemed muted, all noises became light music. No more horse walking sound, no more wheels rolling noise. Only the bells of the sleighs sang as merrily as the heart beats of children.
2. Listening
The first snow The first snow came. How beautiful it was, falling so silently all day long, all night long, on the mountains, on the meadows, on the roofs of the living, on the graves of the dead. All white saved the river, that marker was caused by a winding black line across the landscape, and leafless trees that against the linden sky now revealed more fully the wonderful beauty and intricacy of their branches. What was silence too come with the snow, and what was the collusion. Every sound was muffled; every noise changed to something soft and musical. No more trapping huffs, no more rattling wheels, only the charming of the sleigh bells beating and swift merrily at the hearts of children.
