I can’t understand how people even live in this world when they’re hot in the summer, cold in the winter, damp in the fall, and in spring it’s who the hell knows what. My favorite time of year is the one that’s here and now. In summer — summer, in fall — fall, in winter — winter.
From a recent conversation: — How’s it going? — Well, it’s cold... — Cold? Buddy, it’s only minus 10 and you’re already cold? What are you going to say at minus 25?
I remember in 2006, in winter, I studied for two weeks at Nizhny Novgorod State University. Back then, in late January, the thermometer rarely climbed above minus 20. But for us it was pure happiness to go for a walk as a whole group around the center of Nizhny Novgorod late in the evening, almost at minus 30. I remember those walks with great joy, and I’d gladly do them again.
One acquaintance of mine, as soon as winter starts, buys up sleeping pills at the pharmacy, locks himself in the house, and sleeps the whole time until the first little streams appear outside. When I look at the thermometer and it says minus 25, I think: “Oh, I should go for a walk; it’s not often that winter is this damn nice”!
There’s no such thing as bad weather.