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In Silence
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The drizzling winter rain falls gently and silently. Though it lacks the vibrant vitality of spring rain that moistens like fine silk, it carries a unique sense of depth and tranquility. Winter’s rain feels like a thoughtful philosopher, nourishing the earth with quiet patience, subtly softening the stark landscapes. Aside from the evergreens that remain verdant, most other plants have shed their leaves. Only the maples and dawn redwoods stand out, their fiery red foliage glowing vividly in the cold wind, a striking warmth amidst the season’s chill, adding a touch of passion to the barren earth.
Winter is a season defined by its quietude. The rain falls softly, unlike the dramatic thunderstorms and heavy downpours of summer. Even snow descends in silence, as if not wanting to disturb the serene stillness. Apart from the occasional howl of the northwest wind, most of the time, the world remains hushed, as though gathering an unseen energy. This quiet winter feels like a contemplative thinker, nurturing its aspirations and quietly awaiting the right moment for a future bloom of brilliance.
