March came in that winter like the meekest and mildest of lambs, bringing days that were crisp and golden and tingling, each followed by a frosty pink twilight which gradually lost itself in an elfland of moonshine.
L.M. MontgomeryAlthough it was only six o'clock, the night was already dark. The fog, made thicker by its proximity to the Seine, blurred every detail with its ragged veils, punctured at various distances by the reddish glow of lanterns and bars of light escaping from illuminated windows. The road was soaked with rain and glittered under the street-lamps, like a lake reflecting strings of lights. A bitter wind, heavy with icy particles, whipped at my face, its howling forming the high notes of a symphony whose bass was played by swollen waves crashing into the piers of the bridges below. The evening lacked none of winter's rough poetry.
Théophile GautierMots clés rain night winter cold evening
Like some winter animal the moon licks the salt of your hand,
Yet still your hair foams violet as a lilac tree
From which a small wood-owl calls.
Mots clés moon winter hair owl animal salt violet
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The nights were long, like the braids of a pretty girl, and the days were short, like a girl's sense. ("The North")
Yevgeny ZamyatinMots clés day night winter girl
Gripped with bitter cold, ice-locked, Petersburg burned in delirium. One knew: out there, invisible behind the curtain of fog, the red and yellow columns, spires, and hoary gates and fences crept on tiptoe, creaking and shuffling. A fevered, impossible, icy sun hung in the fog - to the left, to the right, above, below - a dove over a house on fire. From the delirium-born, misty world, dragon men dived up into the earthly world, belched fog - heard in the misty world as words, but here becoming nothing - round white puffs of smoke. The dragon men dived up and disappeared again into the fog. And trolleys rushed screeching out of the earthly world into the unknown. ("The Dragon")
Yevgeny Zamyatinفي الشتاء
الملابس وحدَها تبقى دافئة،
الخِزانات الضيّقة
تُخفي جيّداً أصواتَ القُبَل!
Our wings serve as flippers that carry us across the ocean; not in the sky!
Why, us penguins have so much fun time in the water, we don't even want to fly!
Mots clés life nature winter flying swimming bird season penguin
She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, a tiny, bloody angel in the snow, and they were going to destroy her.
Maggie StiefvaterMots clés death winter snow angel werewolf
It reminded me of what Dad said after every snail’s crawl home from
Albany when snow hit.“It’s New York, people. It’s winter. We get snow. If you aren’t prepared
to deal with it, move to Miami.
Mots clés winter new-york weather
On that walk around the building, two sets of cops coming out stopped to tell our guys to hustle us inside so they could head back out on the road. Accidents everywhere. A pileup on
each of two major roads. “Welcome to winter,” one said. “When fifty percent of drivers should have their licenses temporarily suspended.
Mots clés winter accidents traffic
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