: Nancy Campbell
: Nature Tales for Winter Nights
: Elliott& Thompson
: 9781783967438
: 1
: CHF 8.10
:
: Natur: Allgemeines, Nachschlagewerke
: English
: 272
: Wasserzeichen
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB
___ 'From the author of our former Non-Fiction Book of the Month Fifty Words for Snow comes a luminous collection of fascinating seasonal tales that explore everything from Tove Jansson's childhood to polar bird myths.' Waterstones A treasure trove of nature tales from storytellers across the globe, bringing a little magic and wonder to every winter night. As the evenings draw in - a time of reckoning, rest and restoration - immerse yourself in this new seasonal anthology. Nature Tales for Winter Nights puts winter - rural, wild and urban - under the microscope and reveals its wonder. From the late days of autumn, through deepest cold, and towards the bright hope of spring, here is a collection of familiar names and dazzling new discoveries. Join the naturalist Linnæus travelling on horseback in Lapland, witness frost fairs on the Thames and witch-hazel harvesting in Connecticut, experience Alpine adventure, polar bird myths and courtship in the snow in classical Japan and ancient Rome. Observations from Beth Chatto's garden and Tove Jansson's childhood join company with artists' private letters, lines from Anne Frank's diary and fireside stories told by indigenous voices. A hibernation companion, this book will transport you across time and country this winter. ___ Praise for Fifty Words for Snow, a Waterstones Book of the Month: 'Absolutely exquisite. This little book is a work of art.' Horatio Clare, author of The Light in the Dark 'This stunning book made me want to pack all my woolies, candles, ample firewood and enough books for a year - and head to as northerly a location as I could find.' Kerri ní Dochartaigh, Caught by the River 'A delightful compendium' The Herald 'Winter has its own special magic, and this collection from around the world makes you want to pull on your boots and get out there.' Saga

snow mountains everywhere


In winter the early mornings. It is beautiful indeed when snow has fallen during the night, but splendid too when the ground is white with frost; or even when there is no snow or frost, but it is simply very cold and the attendants hurry from room to room stirring up the fires and bringing charcoal, how well this fits the season’s mood! But as noon approaches and the cold wears off, no one bothers to keep the braziers alight, and soon nothing remains but piles of white ashes […]

The Snow Mountain


From the tenth day of the Twelfth Month it snowed very heavily. I and the other ladies-in-waiting gathered large quantities of snow and heaped it in lids; then we decided to build a real snow mountain in the garden. Having summoned the servants, we told them it was on Her Majesty’s orders, and so they all got to work. Men from the Office of Grounds, who had come to do some sweeping, also joined in, and soon the mountain was rising high above the ground. Next came some officials from the Office of the Empress’s Household, who made suggestions and helped build an especially beautiful mountain. There were also a few Assistant Officials from the Emperor’s Private Office and some more men from the Office of Grounds, so that soon we had about twenty people working away. In addition messages were sent to the servants off duty, saying that a special stipend would be given to anyone who helped on that day, but that those who did not appear for work could expect nothing. This brought the men rushing out, except for those who lived far away and could not be informed.

When the mountain was finished, officials from the Office of the Empress’s Household were summoned and given rolls of silk tied up in sets of two. They threw the rolls on to the veranda, and each of the workmen came and took a set. Having bowed low, they thrust the silk into their robes before withdrawing. Some of the Court gentlemen changed from their formal over-robes into hunting costume and remained in attendance at the Empress’s Office.

‘Well,’ said Her Majesty, ‘how long is that mountain likely to last?’

Everyone guessed that it would be ten days or a little more.

‘And what do you think?’ the Empress asked me.

‘It will last till the fifteenth of the First Month,’ I declared.

Even Her Majesty found this hard to believe, and the other women insisted that it would melt before the end of the year. I realized I had chosen too distant a date; the mountain would last until the first of the year at the outside, which was the latest day I should have given. Yet there was no taking back what I had said: though I knew the mountain was unlikely to survive till the fifteenth, I stuck to my original prediction.

Towards the twentieth it began raining. There was no sign that the snow was about to melt, but the mountain did shrink a little. ‘Oh, Goddess of Mercy of Shirayama,’ I prayed frenziedly, ‘do no