Slowly, in the silence of time, subtle snowflakes furrow the sky and fall on the ground. It is the representation of the inescapable advance of time, of its tireless dripping. Sooner or later, time will also take away our majesty. Our skyscrapers, our mighty structures. The years will form a white layer over our history and an incomplete trace of our noisy footsteps will remain, like a souvenir of the past.
Winter is, inescapably, a phase.
Our possible future. Then the warmth will return, the light, and we will be there to recover from the memory and unwrap the old life.