Winter is upon us and as I look out my window, it is the snow of the time of year that I see covering all that be as if coating or highlighting the outlines of the trees and so much that merely serves as a place for the white to gather up in display of its evident abundance to contrast all. I for my part have always found it fascinating how snow can make almost any scene or street seem picturesque yet there is something romantic in it as well as is the crystal ball with similar images. In a way most places that have strong conditions are much the same as all that be required are temperatures of frost yet I have also come to observe that there is diversity between the northern and southern hemispheres which even lends itself to emotions felt as the time of year is another; as are the stars. It being the star to the North that prevail in one end while the grand cross at the other. All in an exhibit made all the more spectacular by the season capable of lighting up the sky in poles to the north in a way to surpass any artificial works of fire.
Winter arriving from December to March as is the case in Europe and North America as opposed to from June to September as is the case in South America yet it is the same elements that I have seen in my travels. They ranging from Santiago to Moscow or from Buenos Aires to New York and so many other cities yet the feeling of going out to battle the elements and returning home are always those of sensation. As there is something so soothing about having been out on a day of descending snow to the cold winds that blow; as to send waves through me unlike any other season. It being as if a fireplace were in my home though in all truth this I only experienced at my sister's in Italy.
Winter may also be in the way one rejoices in a film or book with a warm meal or a brandy or whatever be of good spirit amongst all the comfort of having removed one's shields against the climate that surround. Of course for myself it is the sounds of opera which can always be called upon to add to this atmosphere yet all be due to the way conditions are about that create such moments. It was once that I even commented to someone near that it is expeditions in the outdoors on days like blizzards that in reality allow one to better appreciate the knowledge of having put an end to what was in a place we call our own. This for if one thing holds out as truth about winter, it is how it can make coming home be truly grand in the manner it prompts us to reach for the affection of not only our place of residence but those who inhabit it with us; for it is in their romance and sexuality that we find what perhaps this time of year requires most of all from us and we from it.
Winter arriving from December to March as is the case in Europe and North America as opposed to from June to September as is the case in South America yet it is the same elements that I have seen in my travels. They ranging from Santiago to Moscow or from Buenos Aires to New York and so many other cities yet the feeling of going out to battle the elements and returning home are always those of sensation. As there is something so soothing about having been out on a day of descending snow to the cold winds that blow; as to send waves through me unlike any other season. It being as if a fireplace were in my home though in all truth this I only experienced at my sister's in Italy.
Winter may also be in the way one rejoices in a film or book with a warm meal or a brandy or whatever be of good spirit amongst all the comfort of having removed one's shields against the climate that surround. Of course for myself it is the sounds of opera which can always be called upon to add to this atmosphere yet all be due to the way conditions are about that create such moments. It was once that I even commented to someone near that it is expeditions in the outdoors on days like blizzards that in reality allow one to better appreciate the knowledge of having put an end to what was in a place we call our own. This for if one thing holds out as truth about winter, it is how it can make coming home be truly grand in the manner it prompts us to reach for the affection of not only our place of residence but those who inhabit it with us; for it is in their romance and sexuality that we find what perhaps this time of year requires most of all from us and we from it.
My name is Gianni Truvianni, I am an author who writes with the simple aim of sharing his ideas, thoughts and so much more of what I am with those who are interested in perhaps reading something new. I also am the author of the book entitled New Yorks Opera Society which is now available on Amazon.
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