It’s winter. The snow is growing, stratus after stratus, covering up the earth, worming the young buds just sprung with her cold body. The warmth of slumber tempts beings, silence surrounds nature, all is white and pure. My footsteps leave deep marks, marks which snow covers up quickly.

the white ocean
a very big place –
silencing everything

The top of the mountain appears strange through the curtain of flakes. I try to clear my vision, but it’s impossible. The mountain hides itself, it doesn’t want to be seen. Only if you manage to get there have you the right to feel, to see, to be happy…

the long road to the top
a zigzag of ice –
a road towards the sun

I reach the top very hard. The blizzard stops, and rays of sunshine flood the atmosphere, penetrating the heavy clouds, which appear to want to escape, fly in other horizons carried by the wind. A few birds run on the blue sky, enjoying the heat and the light. In front of me, the valley stretches itself white, glittering. Although is short, the moment of light is an oasis. I sit on the cold snow, filling it’s chills. The sun and the ice melt together in every moment…