Gentlemen, spring is upon us

There are those days when I wonder why I live in Sweden. Like those days when you walk into a building and when you walk out two hours later, everything is covered in deep, heavy, wet snow. And after waiting 40 minutes for the bus, you realise it's probably not gonna show up. And that your hair is probably gonna freeze to icicles. And that you might not get to school tomorrow. And that spring got delayed yet again. There are days like those.

But the annoyance of an unexpected snowfall (not really unexpected, it happens almost every year...) and the inconvenience of canceled bus routes still can't take away the beauty of snow. I haven't really had a proper winter this year. No skiing, iceskating (with one exception on a frozen lake in Mörby) and no snowball fights. My epic plan of learning how to snowboard didn't happen, for obvious reasons.
All my Swedish friends must hate me for writing this, cause at the end of March, snow is probably as unwelcome as smallpox.

It'll be gone soon again though. For now, I'm gonna enjoy shoving snow down my brothers' shirt, listening to the sound of my shoes trudging through the white layers. Maria said it looked like whipped cream and because my imagination might be slightly off, I said it felt more like wading through potato starch. (It really does).
It sucks, not having your expectations fulfilled. An early spring isn't realistic in Scandinavia. So I'll just take this as it is. After all, there's not many other things I find more beautiful than trees covered in snow and seeing the snowflakes sift slowly through the sky under a lamppost.

So, I won't complain. After all, I know why I live in Sweden. Because it's probably the most beautiful place in the world.
(And it helps that my mum came to pick me up and she made the car skid halfway across the road. Just for fun, you know. I think she has secret plans of joining the Swedish rally team.)



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