There’s something so perfect about snow. It’s so fragile and so pure. So easy to ruin, either by heat or by footprints.

In a world of white glitter, the sunshine is blinding. A faint smell of snow mobile petrol hovers over the landscape, and now and again you can hear a motor in the distance.

Clinging to twigs, the tiny balls of snow look like osier buds.

It’s the perfect day for an outing.

Birches everywhere shining with half-melted crystals.

Sun filters through the smoke as you grill your sausages on an open fire… 🙂