Let it Snow!

❄Two❄

Nora pushed her hands into the pockets of her long charcoal coat in search of her gloves, the moment she stepped under the ancient lindens and chestnut trees growing along the gravel path, their leafless branches trembling in the wind.

It was freezing here, much colder than in the city. She sighed when she realised that her woollen mittens were gone, and she had no idea where she had left them. She pulled the hood of her coat up, then pushed her hands in the opposite sleeves of her coat, creating a provisory muff, hoping that she would find some of her old winter clothes up in the house. If not, she would just have to buy some.

There were many shops and boutiques in this little town designed to satisfy all the needs of the tourists which the castle and the nearby spa attracted. She could see some of them beyond the large trunks of the trees standing first in a single, then, as she walked deeper into the park, in two or three lines next to the gravel path-- hopefully a few were open even in winter.

Two rows of medieval buildings bordered the park on both sides, barely visible through the gaps among the trees-- the tiny shops that occupied most of them sat huddled in the shadows under the heavy stone columns and arches which the lighs of the streetlamps could not disperse entirely, their windows dark this time of the day. Only a couple of restaurants and one little café were still open. Their silver mushroom heaters, towering above shabby chic round tables and armchairs buried under heaps of blankets, illuminated the night like orange, earthbound stars, the low music playing for a handful of customers and the occasional passer-by enhancing the festive, Christmassy atmosphere of the place.

Then the expanse of trees grew wider and thicker, tall firs and pines substituting the smaller trees hinting at the encroaching forest, and the town vanished from view entirely, making Nora feel alone in the world, as if she stepped through an enchanted portal into the past, or at least to some magical parallel world. That's why she loved this place-- it made her feel like no other; it could easily be a world from one of the thousands of books she had read.

She was almost certain that if she closed her eyes and made a wish, she would find herself in Pemberley, Mr Darcy walking towards her with outstretched arms, a loving smile on his lips. Or in Thornfield Hall, sitting on the bench under the chestnut tree with Mr Rochester, his hand closed tightly around hers, or in Wuthering Heights, running across the moors with Heathcliff or...

You really are too old for such fantasies, Nora thought, frowning, the sound of her feet on the gravel echoing around her eerily now that the town was out of sight and earshot. You'll sooner find yourself under Count Dracula's castle, with the vampire behind, his hand reaching for your neck...

The picture that her mind produced to accompany the thought made her jump and turn around, breath faltering, then laugh at herself. She would never reach the cottage tonight if she got freaked out already here-- the meadow surrounded by forest stretching between the castle and her house was way scarier than this peaceful park.

Nora started to breathe freely again once the sound of her footfalls was drowned by the trickle of water. She reached a huge tree growing in the middle of a small clearing, beautifully decorated for Christmas. It stood next to a warm-water fountain, alimented by one of the hot springs the spa had been built around a couple of centuries back. This fountain never froze, exactly like the many small, natural, thermal lakes that could be found in the forest beyond grandma's cottage and the large, man-made pools of the spa.

She paused to admire the fountain as always, watching the water descend from one large shell carved from a dark grey stone, covered in golden-green moss and algae, to another, the small waterfall illuminated artistically to make it look magical. Her breath caught as her eyes strolled to the shimmering icicles, more beautiful than any of the Christmas decorations-- they had formed on the branches of the Christmas tree overhanging the fountain, where the steam issuing from the warm water condensed and froze before some of it dropped back into the warm, shell-like pools. The fountain was a little miracle in the middle of the frosty winter, teeming with life, full of brightly-coloured fish and water plants. The icicles reflected and multiplied the splashing water and the colourful Christmas lights of the tree, sending thousands of little rainbows into the surrounding darkness.