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And branches choked with snow
Singing Agathe
wilowisp
It seems that every year we have a first snowfall like this - gentle, yet persistent, hiding all the world and awakening a mournful joy inside me. And every year I feel the need to take to recording this sensation, this amazing isolation. My dreams are closer in this surreal landscape, where light is diffused in all directions yet you cannot see.

My introversion bows before the presence of nature, awed and excited. I look through the glass, breath hushed with piety. The cold of winter is a beast. The snow of winter is a comfort.
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