“Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart.” (Haruki Murakami)

Rain turned into snow and the world does disappear…
When I was a kid, I did disagree when they told me that black is the color of death. For me black was simply the absence of colors, like when you turn off the light. When you turn the light on again everything is as it was before.
But when everything is covered with snow and white, nothing is as it was. Things are hidden or disappear. And everything left are the memories of how it was before….

(Day 047/365)