Pyotr Konchalovsky, The tree in frost (1933)
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Frost
grows on the window glass, forming whorl patterns of lovely translucent
geometry.
Breathe on the glass, and you give frost more ammunition.
Now it can build castles and cities and whole ice continents with your
breath’s vapor.
In a few blinks you can almost see the winter fairies moving in . . . But
first, you hear the crackle of their wings.
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Vera Nazarian (via The Dutchess)
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