Before autumn could finish its quiet work of gathering fallen leaves, snow arrived—soft, unannounced, and impossibly early. Isfahan, a city born of sunlight and dust-toned stone, awoke to a whiteness it did not expect, as if the sky had briefly forgotten the calendar.
Iran (IMNA) - The clouds moved gently across the city, releasing their gift with restraint, each snowflake a whispered promise rather than a declaration. Domes, bridges, and silent streets accepted the cold touch with dignity, carrying the weight of centuries beneath a veil of fresh wonder.
This was not winter’s arrival, only its greeting—a fleeting moment when time paused and the city breathed differently. The first snow of the year did not stay long, but it lingered in memory, reminding Isfahan that even the most familiar landscapes can still be surprised, and that beauty sometimes comes early, quietly, and without warning.
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