Explore "My Traveling Companion" by Pietari Päivärinta on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was the last of March. The weather was fair and here and there one could see signs of approaching Spring. Birds were beginning to twitter in the branches. Sleighing, if not completely broken up, was bad; the roads were rough and muddy, and in several places the bare ground showed through. Brooks and rivers were filled with floating snow and ice and dirt, and only the sharp freezing at night kept them from overflowing their banks. In favored places many a little brook had burst through to freedom and was joyfully leaping down the declivities, and rushing noisily away to the breast of its mother -- the ancient sea.
Such was the season and condition of traveling, when business forced me to take a journey outside my own parish.