This is my first winter in Toronto and I woke up to see heavy snow outside my window, and I was overjoyed inside: at least it has been four years since I last saw such a large snowfall, it feels like I'm back home.
Snow, is a very common sight in my northeastern hometown. This is my first winter in Toronto and I woke up to see heavy snow outside my window, and I was overjoyed inside: at least it has been four years since I last saw such a large snowfall, it feels like I'm back home.
The snow in Hiroshima is never heavy, just a thin layer, very homely. The snow in Beijing is also very stingy, not willing to give more, but the historical heaviness makes it just right. The first snow in the Forbidden City, the world of glass white snow red plum, this scene has been seen by Lao She, the times have changed, and now it's my turn. Toronto's wind is a little like the wind in Jinzhou, blowing away from people. The winter in Jinzhou is not that cold, after class, run into the cafeteria and get a stone pot mixed rice, soft and sticky northeastern rice one by one into the mouth, eating until sweating from the nose.
The memories of winter in my hometown are of warm indoor spaces, layers of clothing, and muddy board-oil roads. After snowfall, the streets are often covered with black mud and salt, as sanitation workers spread industrial salt along the city's roads to prevent icing.
After high school, a few friends and I would walk out of school, buy a roasted sweet potato, and walk while eating it. The warmth and sweetness immediately enveloped us. When we got home, the heating and geothermal made the indoor air warm and dry. Before going to bed at night, my mother would mop the bedroom with a damp cloth to increase humidity.
If it snowed heavily, it was not unexpected that the school would organize students to shovel snow. I was looking forward to the snow, and at this moment, everyone would bring their shovels, put down their books, and run to the playground. Snow shoveling was usually divided by class, and each student was responsible for their own area.
In memory of the winter in my hometown, it was warm inside with layers of clothing and muddy roads coated with slush oil. After snowing, the streets was often covered with black mud and salt, and the sanitation workers spread industrial salt along the city streets to prevent icing.
After high school, three or four friends walked out of the campus together, buying a roasted sweet potato at the gate while walking and eating. The warmth and sweetness instantly enveloped their bodies. When they returned home, the heating and geothermal made the room warm and dry. So before going to bed at night, my mother would mop the bedroom with a damp rag to increase humidity.
If the snow was heavy, as expected, the school would organize students to shovel snow. I looked forward to snowing, and every time this moment came, everyone would bring their shovels, throw their books aside, and run to the playground. Snow shoveling was usually divided by class, and each student had his own area of responsibility.
Going back a little further to elementary school, after snowing the temperature was very low. After washing in the bathhouse, even a five-minute walk home would freeze the hair outside the hat into ice laces. The tracks of various vehicles could be clearly seen on the snow-covered roads. Occasionally, the sharpening vendors could be heard, and the shouting of street vendors could be heard. After the layoff wave in the factory, the doors in the city were tightly locked, and the desolate and dilapidated factories stood in the snow, as if telling the sorrow of the workers. Toronto's winter opened the curtains with this snow. The sky is white; the ground is also white, which is exactly what my hometown looks like in my dream.