Snowfull Rivers Mountains

Once upon a time, a snowflake lay quietly and peacefully atop a mountain, relishing the wind, the breeze, and the vast company of its peers. Eventually, the day arrived for its journey to commence, and so it did, gracefully returning to where it all began.

Reflecting on the past few years, I've been fortunate to embrace life across various countries on this Earth. Looking back, I find myself contemplating the moments and the beauty within each memory. I pose a question to myself—what would I have done differently? The resounding answer is to graciously appreciate each moment more. Time progresses at its own pace, unyielding to speed or delay, and the realization dawns that each stage could have been savored more.

The business of life doesn't necessarily hasten its pace, but it certainly feels that way. Amidst a racing mind and a spinning world, everything seems indistinguishable. In navigating life this way, the small things fade into insignificance, becoming mere nuisances. Take, for instance, the seemingly trivial task of washing clothes. Once a minor aspect of my life, it didn't even register until recently when I lost access to such a convenience. Now, having to travel to a designated location, wait, and adhere to a schedule for laundry, appreciation comes knocking at the door.

The sensation of donning fresh clothes, smelling good, and relishing the luxury of clean attire was something I had previously overlooked. It prompts a reflection on life's small joys that slipped through the cracks. Consider the restroom—a private haven always available. Recently, losing that exclusive access and having to share the space with others sheds light on the beauty in life's simplest things.

This leads me to question: do I miss the grandiose aspects of life? Most certainly not. While those epic experiences were enjoyable, they are not cause for mourning. Strangely enough, it's the recollection of the small, simple pleasures that stands out, not the monumental events. Life, in all its facets, starts small and gradually builds upon itself, culminating in some form of conclusion.

It's a safe assertion that life is, indeed, a journey—from the unassuming moments to the more significant ones. The entirety of it comprises a journey, akin to a snowflake descending from a mountaintop, melting into water, flowing through a stream, settling in a lake, evaporating into a cloud, and once again resting atop a mountain. Each journey traverses various terrains, forging a new path, narrating a fresh story—a perpetual expedition.

Thank you for your time. Cheers!