The trees stood motionless and white like figures in a marble frieze. There was no odour of pine-needles. The rays of the sun fell upon the trees, so that the twigs sparkled like diamonds and dropped in showers when we touched them. So dazzling was the light, it penetrated even the darkness that veils my eyes.

As   the   days   wore   on,   the   drifts   gradually   shrunk,   but   before   they   were   wholly   gone   another   storm   came,   so   that   I   scarcely   felt   the   earth   under   my   feet   once   all   winter.   At   intervals   the   trees   lost   their   icy   covering,   and   the   bulrushes   and   underbrush   were   bare;   but   the   lake   lay   frozen   and   hard   beneath   the   sun.

Our   favourite   amusement   during   that   winter   was   tobogganing.   In   places   the   shore   of   the   lake   rises   abruptly   from   the   water's   edge.   Down   these   steep   slopes   we   used   to   coast.   We   would   get   on   our   toboggan,   a   boy   would   give   us   a   shove,   and   off   we   went!   Plunging   through   drifts,   leaping   hollows,   swooping   down   upon   the   lake,   we   would   shoot   across   its   gleaming   surface   to   the   opposite   bank.   What   joy!   What   exhilarating   madness!   For   one   wild,   glad   moment   we   snapped   the   chain   that   binds   us   to   earth,   and   joining   hands   with   the   winds   we   felt   ourselves   divine!