No footsteps have disturbed the virgin surface, and, if they did, they would produce that muffled, crunching sound of snow being trampled. The outlines of the yews, pines and larches are lost under swollen tunics that weigh heavily on their sturdy branches. It is one of those wan January mornings when the freezing air bites your fingers and face and seeps up your legs. One of those mornings when winter like a silversmith has rimed the tiniest protuberance, stone, railings and bars, and snow has blanketed the chaos of the world with its fragile molecular cathedrals. Apart from a few frozen birds, the animals have abandoned the place, which is too wild to be a clearing or a field, too open to shelter creatures or homes. There are curious, slightly fuzzy, vertical shapes dotted around and it takes a moment to realise what they are. The photographer, who failed to produce a clear image, lighted on a large snowy mass measuring one and a half metres by three.
What do You think about The People In The Photo (2013)?
