Winter

It’s snowing in Olsztyn. Beautiful, large petals that fill the entire visible space. When I saw short pictures of Christmas in Australia as a child, I was glad that I was not there – because there is no snow there on Christmas Day, but people lie in the sun on the beaches and bathe in the sea. I couldn’t imagine Christmas without winter. I remembered the most beautiful descriptions of winter from the book “Ashes” (Stefan Żeromski). Rafał Olbromski in the greatest snowstorm went to his beloved.

Żeromski convinced me that this is the best combination of impressions: to go through a snowy, forest landscape to your beloved. I don’t think there’s a Pole who doesn’t love the final scene from “Deluge.” I also remembered the descriptions of winter from the books “Another World” (G. H. Grudziński) and “Records from the House of the Dead” (F. Dostoyevsky). From my younger years, I remember the great adventures in the winter landscape from the books “The Last Mohican” (J. F. Cooper) and “The Drifters of the North” (O. Curwood).

I do not know whose merit is that in my day among the compulsory readings in primary school were books with a snowy landscape such as “Call of Blood” and “White Fang” (both written by J. London) and “Odarpi son of Egigwa” and reading, after which I dreamed to live in Greenland: “Anaruk boy from Greenland” (Cz. Centkiewicz).