“Have I not described a pleasant sight for a dwelling, when I speak of it as bosomed in hill and wood, and rising from the verge of a stream ?”
– Charlotte Bronte (Jane Eyre)
This desrciption had likeness to the handsome house, i was presently residing in. An avid reader of the classics, i was immersed in the speculations of my book.
The blows of chilling air intruded me by stroking my hair. It seemed eternity when my eyes met the steamy mist, striking the chimes of the bronze bells hanging on my window pane. It was that moment when I laid my book on the wooden table beside the hot evaporating cup of coffee and headed towards the door. Thinking of the possibilities to visit outside. I took walk to the nearest ancient street .
I was passing by the candy store. Which was aromatic with the sweetness of home made choclates and variety of flavours. There sat a middle aged lady spinning the wool to knit the sweaters. Always concerned about my well being, she talked of the day’s course. Scrutning my gestures of rubbing my both the hands for warmth.
She stated, “The weather is cold today.”
“But indeed delightsome.” I added.
Pointing towards the hill veiled by fog that appeared far behind the lonely town where I lived.
“Snowflakes under the garb of mist are covering the hill…” a beautiful phenomena she then narrarted. Immense warmth and happiness filled my heart in the season of harshness and cold.