Dreaming of a snowy winter

"Next moment she found that what was rubbing against her face and hands was no longer soft fur but something hard and rough and even prickly. 'Why, it is just like branches of trees!' exlaimed Lucy. And then she saw that there was a light ahead of her; not a few inches away where the back of the wardrobe ought to have been, but a long way off. Something cold and soft was falling on her. A moment later she found that she was standing in the middle of a wood at night-time with snow under her feet and snowflakes falling through the air."

This was the first Christmas I've ever spent in a winter time, but unfortunately there was no snow. I already expected that, as I've been told it's really rare to snow in Denmark around this specific time of the year. When I first came here, real snow came in february, through a rough snow storm. It looked beautiful at first sight, but then came the salt, and the slow melting, and dirt. Its beauty didn't last so long. Whenever there's a road, a street, a town, that's how it is, I guess. As long as it's below zero and there's as less as human presence as possible, snow will keep its immaculate beauty, at least for a little longer. Next time it snows, I'd like to shoot a forest.

Looking at these photos, I could almost picture a snowy wood extracted from a certain book. It would make it easier to believe if there was a lamp-post in its centre and perhaps a frightened faun carrying a little umbrella and several parcels. He could invite me to have a delightful cup of tea at his house while playing a beautiful song with a flute. However, I ought to be aware of a tall and pale lady who could easily enchant a human while serving Turkish Delight. And since it's been always hard to resist to sweets...

P.S.: All three photographs were taken by my husband in 2006.