Winter Garden 소설 & 이야기

Su·mar /sumar/ /sʏːmaːr/ Icelandic, Old Norse noun meaning summer Soaré My fingertips grazed lightly over the fresh cut blades of grass. I hadn’t seen the gardeners in weeks, but I knew they’d been working nonstop to get the garden to its current glory. Eyes closed, I tilted my head back against the bench I sat cross-legged in front of and inhaled deeply while letting the sun bathe me in its glow. The fresh bloom of floral fragrances permeated the air, blooms with little to no rhyme or reason outside of the fact that some had bloomed in the spring and others were eagerly making their debut upon the cusp of summer. If I opened my eyes, I’d see the white flowers of the apple blossom trees, sca

Then it hit him and a smirk plastered on his face, “Oh right. We definitely have to go mow. “I can’t wait to officially have you, Mrs. Hudson.” I chuckled, feeling butterflies in my stomach. This is really it. I can’t wait to be on more adventures with my husband, Eion. It was all worth it. And I’m proud to say that I am Snow caught in his Winter Heart. **

She had a sneaking suspicion he had chosen the bike for more than just nostalgic value. She revelled in the rush as they took the twists and bends of the Bells line. The feeling of the breeze on her face made her shiver as she took in the stunning countryside. They took a turn at the sign marked “Botanic Gardens” and she smiled inwardly. She loved the gardens in Winter, they were stunning all year round, but in Spring and Autumn they were flooded with tourists. In winter, it was mainly the locals who meandered through, taking in the greenery rugged up in their boots, coats and scarves.

These were words Nora had written as early as her freshman year of high school. "Mom tutors the boy downstairs in math. So why does she say she doesn't know how whenever I ask her?" "I don't like Mom anymore. She missed my parent-teacher conference again." "I really want to graduate soon. Once I graduate, I won't have to stay in this house anymore." "Dad finally agreed today. I'm so happy!" Marissa's eyes widened. That day was the college-sendoff dinner. What did Nora mean? What had Owen Duncan agreed to?

He reached the end of the hall and pushed through the heavy wooden door. The garden was small, enclosed by high brick walls that had turned dark from the damp winter air. The perimeter was lined with winter-bare trees, their branches stripped down to the bare bone and contrasting sharply against the pale sky. The grass beneath them was a faded, pale green, its edges slightly frosted with a thin layer of morning rime. A narrow gravel path wound through the center of the lawn in a simple, unbroken loop, interrupted only by three wooden benches set at regular intervals.

After breakfast, he said he was taking me out. The moment I got into the car, a sharp scent hit me, and I couldn’t help sneezing. I noticed a lily-scented air freshener clipped to the vent. Since I was allergic to lilies, I reached out instinctively to throw it away. Ronan reacted instantly and grabbed my wrist. "Don’t touch that! Brynn put it there because she said my car stinks. If she notices it’s gone next time, she’ll never let me hear the end of it."

I comforted her for a bit, then deliberately sounded troubled. "Jas, I'm out of town right now, trying to come up with the money. "Why don't you hang in there for now? It's only June. No matter how heavy this snow is, it should stop by tomorrow at the latest." Jasmine frowned, about to say more, but Rhett had already heard the word 'money.' He snatched the phone from her hand and spoke loudly, "It's just a little snow. Nothing to worry about. We country folks can handle the cold.

Today was my wife's birthday, and she was waiting for us, full of hope and love. "Dad, you're so sweet to Mom. I'm gonna find a husband just like you someday." "Hahaha! That's the plan." I could not help but laugh out loud at my daughter's words. I quickly passed the candy bouquet from my arms to hers, "Daisy, look, you've got a gift, too." "Wow, it's gorgeous!" She was so excited that she gave me a big kiss on the cheek. Then, with a curious tilt of her head, she asked, "Dad, who's that other bouquet for?"

However, he never showed himself, leaving me with no chance to vent my frustration. This absurd routine continued until the Snowcrest New Year. It was the grandest festival on the Snowcrest Plateau. To my surprise, John did not show up. By the time the sun was setting, I overheard people talking. Another avalanche had struck the Skyspire Mountains. My eyelid twitched. A moment later, the neighbor’s daughter spotted me and asked in surprise, “Dr. Summer, isn’t that handsome guy with you? He went to get you a gift, didn’t he?”

*Winter* The cold air seeped in through the cracked dormitory windows, a steady reminder of the raging snowstorm outside that turned the quaint village into a frosty wonderland. I had been locked inside for what felt like an eternity—two days, but who's counting? As beautiful as winter is, it brings its moods, unpredictability, folding over me like a heavy blanket of snow. It seduced me with its shimmering appeal yet warned me sternly—it was a force to be reckoned with, not to be tangled with.