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The first day of snow

James Burns/London from the Rooftops

I want to live every day like it’s the first day of snow.

I want to savour every bit of that childish pleasure, the pure feeling of awe and novelty of the child who discovers new pieces of this beautiful world.

I want to see the beauty even where there isn’t any, I want to magnify it when it’s there and then I want it to move me the way only beauty can.

I want to scream it from the rooftops, call everyone I love and let them know, invite them all to cherish this magnificence, the rare gift of a generous sky.

I want to live every day like it’s the day before Christmas, bury my adult worries under layers of candid carelessness.

I want to forget my schedule and sit for hours behind the window pane and just watch it happen. I want to freeze this feeling and this moment, like a snowflake in the glass, and pray it never stops.

I want to smell the crisp winter air and feel the snow coming, let it kiss my face. I want it to remind me of who I was and who I could be, if only I let myself live every day like it’s the first day of snow.


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