She looked down at her feet, which were covered in a drift of light. All around her soft frost was lifting and falling, whirling and dancing in the breeze. This was very different from the world the child had known so far – a world of contrasts and seasons – light and dark, even and perpendicular, silent and roaring. Here was only one aspect but the girl was not afraid as feathers of snowy white settled on her dress and turned hot summer to winter. Wonder had only just awakened in her along with the recognition of beauty, the power of expression and the ability to move freely, to run down a hill through budding cowslips or climb the high back of her father’s armchair. If there were sounds around her she did not hear them: the world was as silent as a storm in a fairy-tale snow globe. Only she understood that this was something important – that this was all at once and nothing at all. There was a movement nearby and then there were arms around her as somebody stooped to pick her up.
