“As he looked up at St Christopher’s face a snowflake drifted past it, then another, and suddenly it was snowing thickly. Like millions of tiny white birds circling home to roost, the flakes danced in the air. They filled the sky as far up as he could imagine. At the same time all the sounds in the world ceased. The snow was piling up on the branches, on the walls, on the ground, on St Christopher’s face and shoulders, without any sound at all…”
(This passage comes from a storybook called The Children of Green Knowe, which was written by Lucy M. Boston.)


















