Читать книгу Morozko - - Страница 2

Imagine a forest touched by winter’s magic wand! The trees were dressed in sparkling white coats, like giant ice princesses. Every branch was covered in tiny, glittering crystals, so the whole forest shimmered under the pale winter sun. It wasn’t just snow – it was frost, the kind that looked like a million tiny diamonds sprinkled everywhere. The air was still and cold, but in a beautiful, clean way.

The tall pine trees stood like silent guards, their needles heavy with snow. When the windy wind whispered through them, they made a soft, shushing sound, like they were telling secrets. Between the pines, smaller trees like birch and aspen sparkled with frost, their delicate branches outlined in silver.

Everywhere you looked, there was ice! Huge icicles hung from the branches like shining swords. On the ground, the snow crunched underfoot, and sometimes, you could see little animal footprints – a fox hunting for food, a hare hopping quickly by, or even the tracks of a deer wandering through the forest.

Deep in the forest, everything felt different. It was quiet, magical, and just a little bit scary. This was Morozko’s kingdom, a place of winter miracles. It was a place to feel the beauty of the cold. It was a place where anything could happen!

The houses were made of wood, with cozy little windows that glowed warm orange in the winter evening. A thin line of smoke always curled from the chimneys, showing that people were inside, keeping warm.

The village wasn’t big. Only a few houses stood close together, surrounded by fields covered in deep snow. In summer, these fields would be green and full of flowers, but now, in winter, they were white and silent. A small, frozen river ran beside the village, where children would skate on the ice when it was safe.

On one side of the village, a great forest stretched for miles, its tall pine trees dark green and brown. On the other, the land sloped upwards to a snowy mountain. And all around the village, the fields were empty and white.

The houses were built low, with a sloping roof. Each one had a chimney, and a pretty front door. The doors were painted bright colours – red and blue and gold and green – to make them stand out against the snow.

On the doors were designs of stars and animals, carved carefully into the wood. Some had images of a white bear and a grey wolf, or a white swan with a black collar. Some had pictures of a bird with a long tail and a sharp beak.

These were the stories that people had been told as children. The bird was called the Firebird, and it could light up the sky with its feathers, which burned red, gold, green and purple.

The bear was Morozko’s friend, and he lived in the forest. As for Morozko, had pale skin, and eyes like the sea, and he was the keeper of the ice and snow, the master of all russian magic, of russian winter.

It was the time of year when the sun shone for only a few hours a day, and everything was frozen and quiet. It was a time for warm fires, and for hot soup and bread. It was a time to tell stories and sing songs, and to gather friends and family close.

But, most of all, it was a time of magic.

And magic was a very real part of the lives of the people in this village.

And you, my dear reader, do you believe in winter magic? Does your hear beat faster when the first snoflake drops? Does the winter cold make you shiver, or is it the excitement? Do you see a little boy or a little girl in the distance, and think, I wonder what they’re doing here, and who they are. Do you believe in magic?

Let’s find out.