In winter, is more than a bleak, cold feeling, there is a sense of strong independent. You look at the leaves have withered away Chinese parasol tree, very straight, who already lost leaf decorated branches will swing in the wind, however, when the wind stops, branches are still lofty. There are birds in the sky, no matter how cold this winter. All of them in the morning sing to life in the evening sing for life, if you are interested in, people coming and going of the concrete jungle, still have the bird's shadow.

Winter rain, always was, but I believe it will stop. Just like believe tomorrow is still sunny. This winter, I went through many I have never thought of before, I do not know what kind of mood is always controlled my body, I slowly get used to looking for quiet in the winter rain. Perhaps the winter was not many people out walking. Or is it because people can calm down in the cold, quiet. You can have time to think about your own, as well as what we have, or lost their vision, regret.

This winter, even though I lost my beloved father. But I did not cry, because I know that crying to no avail. Decay and death, natural cycle. But I can't make the right kind of guilt of the father, in his own lifetime I do not have to do something for him, when he left I didn't do something for him. It's like, footsteps in the winter rain, short, heavy

This winter even though I lost my beloved father

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