"This must be a simply enormous wardrobe!" thought Lucy, going still further in and pushing the soft folds of the coats aside to make room for her. Then she noticed that there was something crunching under her feet. "I wonder is that more mothballs?" she thought, stooping down to feel it with her hand. But instead of feeling the hard, smooth wood of the floor of the wardrobe, she felt something soft and powdery and extremely cold. "This is very queer," she said, and went on a step or two further. Next moment she found that what was rubbing against her face and hands was no longer soft fur but something hard and rough and even prickly. "Why, it is just like branches of trees!" exclaimed Lucy. And then she saw that there was a light ahead of her; not a few inches away where the back of the wardrobe ought to have been, but a long way off. Something cold and soft was falling on her. A moment later she found that she was standing in the middle of a wood at night-time with snow under her feet and snowflakes falling through the air."
C.S Lewis, The Lion The Witch and the Wardrobe
You call that snow? (You call that a knife??? Aussie joke) There was real snow, winter wonderland snow, the kind of snow that a girl from Australia can only ever dream about. I want to say that I was cool, that I was calm and collected and acted like the grown up that I supposedly am. I want to say that I didn't make snowmen and throw snowballs and yell out "Mr Tumnus" really loudly and make a make-shift sled out of a thrown away cardboard box and take a million pictures and get really wet making snow angels. I want to say that I was like that. I really, really do.
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