The wind was strong (no matter how I thought about it, it didn't feel like the willow breeze in Yang's poem), and mixed with dust (it hadn't rained for a long time). I happened to have a cold, and couldn't walk with my mouth closed all the way. When I arrived at school and looked in the mirror, I found a layer of mud densely packed in the corners of my eyes, nose, and other crevices. Kunshan weather. I tried to close my mouth for a moment, but my upper and lower teeth couldn't meet! There were nothing but small particles that irritated my teeth, and my tongue tasted nothing but the earthy flavor. Therefore, I began to doubt: am I not in the legendary northern desert? Upon listening carefully, except for the annoying wind whistling through doors and windows, there were no sounds of lamenting geese, gray wolves, or cold moons. I couldn't experience vastness, remoteness, profundity, loneliness, let alone grandeur and magnificence...
When I finished writing these lines, I looked up at the window. Wow! A dark shadow suddenly flew into the sky, like a gliding crow, also like a flying kite, and it was one that had lost its string. Alas, actually, it wasn't that beautiful at all. It was just a black plastic bag, who knows what kind of bad luck it hit, spun out from the dirty garbage pile, and went on a wild spree, looking extremely pleased with itself, almost laughing maniacally as it headed towards the towering chimney of the heating company.
However, this inferiority far from ended. During the off-work hours, everyone tightened their clothes, shrank their heads, and hurried their steps. A large mass of dark clouds emerged from the mountain peak in the northwest direction, brown in color, getting darker and denser. The wind grew stronger and more aggressive, rolling over as if it wanted to devour everything. Was it a nuclear explosion? Before I could think further, this large block of gloom pressed right before our eyes. People became immediately busy and crowded into the gatehouse like fleeing for their lives, not daring to peek out. Only then did we realize the fierce wind roared, carrying fine snowflakes along with pungent yellow sand, filling the sky and earth instantly. This spectacle was no less than when demons emerge in "Journey to the West". Looking back, the teaching building disappeared, and the field of vision was filled with chaos. A few seconds later, the last speck of dust from this "demon" rolled past the campus, roaring towards the southeast direction. Looking ahead, the fat director who had left the gate before the storm even came dozens of meters away (perhaps a "wise man borrows force to move", hahaha).
When CCTV's weather forecast described the recent snow disaster in Xinjiang, it used the term "March Snow", which sounded quite beautiful. Comparatively speaking, using such a fresh and even somewhat gentle word rather than focusing on the inconvenience and suffering indeed gave people some strength and courage, seeking joy in hardship, which should be a necessary quality for humans, right?