Anticipation for the winter days

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Winter seems to have arrived, as many people have started wearing various types of cotton and down jackets. But it hasn’t snowed in my world yet; the winter I’m looking forward to is still somewhere out there. I remember that people used to often ask me which season I liked the most. My answer was usually spring and autumn, and the reason was simple: spring and autumn are neither cold nor hot, which is just perfect. I think I’m quite normal; in today’s terms, I’d say I’m average, because I believe most people would like Spring and Autumn for the same reasons as me. Perhaps I didn’t really understand what liking meant before, because I never found joy or pleasure in my \"favorite\" season; or maybe it’s because spring and autumn these days are often abnormal – they are no longer spring and autumn. I’m not the same person I used to be either; now I like winter. Yet on these days when winter has already arrived, I am filled with anticipation for the true winter, that is, a winter with snow. To me, snow is the only representative of winter. There is a saying that goes, \"Buddhas rely on gold ornaments, while people rely on clothing.\" Snow is like the colorful garments of winter, and the description of the world being covered in silver after snowfall is truly wonderful. I changed the name of my space to “It’s Snowing in My World,” which represents my endless longing for that world filled with falling snowflakes, beautiful and pure. Yet, it seems to be human nature that we all desire to keep our inner world pure and untainted, yet in the end we cannot resist various temptations, which cause our hearts to soften and make things complicated. However, beyond the longing for snow, it is the people and things of winter, even the momentary pause, that truly make me look forward to winter. Humans and things are interconnected; through humans, we can understand things, and through things, we can understand humans. Just as I discussed Imagism in my American Literature history class a few days ago, analyzing Pound’s \"At the Subway Station,\" \"Faces that appear like phantoms among the crowd.\" “Petals on wet, black branches” – the author thinks of people in an instant, while I associate people with what is before my eyes. I often walk in a certain place, and then wonderful memories come to mind, taking me back to the joy of those times, until I have to stop. It is only when you stop that you realize the past is ultimately just the past. My anticipation for winter seems to be the hope that there will still be those wonderful moments during this winter, rather than because it is winter. In fact, each season has its own characteristics; winter is marked by snow, while autumn is characterized by falling leaves. I’ve never disliked fallen leaves; in fact, I really like them. It’s just that some forms of acquaintance and understanding arise during winter. Winter is truly fortunate, as it witnesses beauty; only sometimes, when it’s too cold, it fails to give rise to a successful spring. Yet from then on, I fell in love with winter, hoping that next time it would act as my matchmaker and lead me to a happy ending. I’m looking forward, I’m looking forward – it’s about to snow in my world ； It’s snowing, it’s snowing; winter is smiling……