On winter mornings, when I open my mouth, white gas comes out and rises into the sky. Sometimes the sky is so white everywhere that one can't see anything when walking in it, just like in a fairyland.
The dawn in the east weaves a colorful picture of the sky: the sky is greenish-blue in the middle and light blue on both sides, like a sapphire.
To the east was a colorful haze, like a golden arrow shooting up into the sky. Soon the encrustation by the sapphire was more and more splendid than before, like a colorful ribbon surrounding the east, it was the sun about to rise.