This is the second part of my text.
                                                                    WINTER
There is a little house around forty meters to the right of the path. From its chimney belches white smoke which wind drives above the trees towards the nearby woods. I have never seen people around but probably their is a family with children living there because there is a swing in the garden and children bicycles leaned on the house wall, frozen and covered in snow. I wonder how it feels to live so isolated, without neighbours and playmates? At least one can scream and quarrel as much as one wants and never risk disturbing one's neighbours. 
In the past this area was a huge mental hospital where thousands of mental patients were kept behind the thick walls and high fences. In the 19th century sedative and other medicine which is now so common were still unknown and the only way to keep patents quiet was to put them in the cold bath or tie them to their beds. There are pieces of the rusty fence which  still can be seen around and which in the past prevented patients to climb over  and get lost in the dense woods. Not far away from my flat one can see the thick and high walls of the wards where the most difficult patients were kept. Nowadays they have become student dormitories.

Walking this path I am thinking about them and their doctors and nurses who probably walked the same way as I do now and wondered what were going to do with all these people. They all must have had very difficult time in the winter when food was scarce and coldness crept inside the huge rooms which never were enough warm. There is one thing which I can share with them although they are already dead hundreds of years ago and it is this everlasting silence and the little river which flows slowly and does not care about people's struggles, conflicts and intrigues. It will outlive all humans and probably laugh at us and our vanity.

I wonder how a person who lives in the overcrowded city like Mumbai, London or New York would react if they would finally find himself in this landscape. Suddenly, he would start to breath cold, but clean air and his already polluted lungs would be racked with pain. It would take him a few minutes to understand that for the first time in his life he is breathing fresh air and his ears for the first time are able to experience silence without terrible noises from the traffic, industry and airports. He or she would believe they have got lost in a fairy tale. And if by a chance they would meet a blond Swedish girl with long wavy hair they would probably do not want to return to their polluted place any more.

It is first here in Sweden that I started to see winter and snow in another light. They are like living creatures who posses consciousness and can speak a language we still have to learn. Unlike human beings they are neither jealous nor arrogant and above all they are patient and follow the laws of the Universe. 

THE END                               

Dear Fandorin.

Thank you very much. Your help is much appreciated!

By the way, when I wrote, "Nowadays they have become student dormitories." I meant the wards, of course. Maybe I should have been clearer and wrote from the beginning," Nowadays, the wards have become student dormitories."