's last photo of this morning. NB - the type of the strong side has flip-flops!
Where I live in Tuscany and it does not snow hardly the same thing here. In fact, here is your stranuccia the snowfall. Although thinking about it as well last year it snowed. It is for this reason that the snow brings me to something unusual and magical.
When the snow falls for me, the world takes on the colors of the tale. The charm is released because everything takes on a new form and thus a new life. This opens up new possibilities for everyone. The imagination begins to work and suddenly you are somewhere else.
When the snow falls for me, the world takes on the colors of the tale. The charm is released because everything takes on a new form and thus a new life. This opens up new possibilities for everyone. The imagination begins to work and suddenly you are somewhere else.
"Snow is a poem. A poem that falls from clouds and light white flakes.
This poem comes from the lips of the sky, from the hand of God has a name.
A name of a dazzling whiteness.
Snow "
This poem comes from the lips of the sky, from the hand of God has a name.
A name of a dazzling whiteness.
Snow "
Maxence Fermine
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