In this silent, solitary landscape of snow
and ice there is an air of serene detachment
like a continent contained within itself where
few choose to venture, remote and inaccessible.
There, eerie beauty reigns in an atmosphere
of frigid calm, a monochromatic vision of
eternal pristine white glimmering in the feeble
light of an endless winter hostile to green life.
A place where majestic mountains of ice float
on a crowded sea of slowly shifting massive
pinnacles flashing and blinking the colours of
magic prisms. The presence of ice and snow in
their regal possession of this place constantly
renewed by blizzards of frozen ornamental flakes
settling over the depthless mounds of centuries.
But this forest is not that frozen continent. Once
time releases its white season, green returns.
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