This special place was known only by few, the ones who had some business in the forest; shepherds, forest rangers, villagers would see it often in their wanderings but none has seen it like I have.
Near my grandfather’s village lied a great forest, an immense land of wilderness which stretched for hundreds and hundreds of miles. It was so vast that you could go in and get out after a few days or maybe never get out. My biggest pleasure was to roam the land from dawn till dusk. Having a restless nature and a disposition for solitude I would wake up from my reveries in the most strange and secluded places. This is how I got to know it.
I remember it was a cold and harsh winter rich with snow. The land looked like it had been painted by a generous artist obsessed with white. I was delighted, I couldn't stand still. One day, as I went out, my steps led me towards the forest. It was of an indescribable beauty, it had something that was calling me. I was mystified. When I managed to break loose from the spell I realized the surroundings were unfamiliar to say the least. The word “lost” instinctively emerged from the depths of my mind but I discarded it immediately as being ridiculous and unreal. I decided to go about my stroll but keep an eye for anything I could use as a landmark. After walking for some time, unaware of where I was, I noticed the forest was different. The trees were fewer, spread in a certain order like someone had placed them in that way for a purpose. Because of that, they were completely covered in frozen snow which made them resemble, with their long and bulky trunks, the cold marble columns of an ancient heathen temple. The light of the setting sun gave them a strange, mystic shine. I was filled with a sense of awe and solemnity.
The silence was disturbed only by the squeak of the snow under my feet which suddenly brought me the memory of my grandfather's footsteps, bringing firewood for boiled wine while I waited in bed, all tucked in, trying to get warm after a snow fight. In that moment the smell of that wine seasoned with cinnamon was so vivid and the taste so strong in my mouth that it made me dizzy and made my cheeks burn. All around the trees the blanket of snow looked perfect, without a mark or a footprint. I always felt sorry for disturbing such harmony and the sound of the broken snow under my feet seemed a cry of rage and a curse voiced by each and every crystal for my impudence. I wanted to be as light as a feather. I wanted to be like a spirit, I wanted to blend with it, to be one with it. I went back in time to that biology class where I had learned that snow is a cover for the small wheat plant giving it warmth and helping it survive the winter. I wanted to be that plant and feel the warmth of the snow surround me and make me fall into a deep sleep. I lied down. It was almost dark and a few stars appeared on the sky, glitterring like the sparkle of a tear. One of the trees took the shape of a bearded old man, an ancient priest casting a serene and comforting gaze upon me. I closed my eyes.
When I opened them and got up I felt that something had changed. Although the forest looked colder under the distant light of the moon, I could feel life pulsating underneath the icy mask of death. I felt strange and that started to frighten me. I yelled trying to find something familiar to cling to but the voice was different like it belonged to someone else. I said to myself it must be because of the forest. Then I realized how late it was so I decided to leave. I found a trail of footsteps leading to the "temple”, probably from someone who came there and never left, which I followed until I was back in the old territories.
