There is something incredibly appealing to me about watching the snowy landscape roll by on the train. That weak pale sky. The undisturbed expanses of snow, like thick, white ash from a cold, white fire. The bare spindly trees. The pines. The white birches. All of them pausing their graceful dance to bow at me as we pass. It is melancholic yet so deeply comforting.
- something’s crossed over in me & I can’t go back
- My baby you’ll be