Votre sélection :
The image displays a nighttime scene with an illustration of a snowy village or hamlet. There are several wooden houses, each with windows glowing from within, and chimneys emitting smoke that contrasts against the dark sky. The roofs of the houses have a layer of snow on them. In the background, there is a clear view of snow-capped mountains under the starry sky. A moon hangs in the top left corner, casting a soft light over the scene. The village appears to be in a valley, as no higher structures or landmarks are visible beyond the houses. There is no text present in the image. The style of the artwork is reminiscent of winter night scenes that one might associate with places like Alaska or Scandinavia. The snow-covered village of Nørhaven lay nestled deep within the frozen fjord, its wooden houses a warm contrast to the biting cold that cut through the crisp air. It was a place where time seemed to stand still, where the rhythms of nature dictated the pace of life.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the villagers began to stir, their fires crackling to life as they prepared for the long night ahead. The smell of smoke and baking bread wafted through the streets, mingling with the scent of snow and pine trees.
In the heart of the village, a young girl named Astrid stood at her window, gazing out into the starry expanse. She loved this time of day, when the world seemed to be bathed in a soft, ethereal light. The moon, now high in the sky, cast an silver glow over the snow-capped mountains that loomed beyond the village.
As she stood there, lost in thought, Astrid noticed something peculiar. A faint light flickered from the edge of the village, where the woods met the frozen lake. She couldn't see what it was, but its gentle pulse seemed to be calling to her.
Without hesitation, Astrid grabbed a woolen cloak and stepped out into the night air. The snow crunched beneath her feet as she made her way towards the source of the light. As she walked, the trees grew taller and the darkness seemed to press in around her, but Astrid felt a sense of wonder and excitement.
At last, she came to the edge of the lake and saw that it was lit by a small fire, where a lone figure sat cross-legged on the ice. The flames danced and spat, casting shadows on the surrounding trees as the figure slowly raised its head.
Astrid's heart skipped a beat as she realized who this must be – her grandfather, the village elder, known throughout Nørhaven for his wisdom and kindness. He beckoned to her with a gnarled hand, and Astrid felt an overwhelming sense of belonging and wonder.
As she approached, the fire crackled and spat once more, and Astrid's grandfather spoke in a voice like the gentle lapping of waves on the shore. "Tonight is a night for stories," he said, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Come, sit by the fire, and I will tell you tales of our people, of magic and wonder, of the secrets hidden beneath the snow."
And so Astrid sat down beside her grandfather, listening as the flames danced around them, casting shadows on the faces of the snowy mountains beyond. It was a night that would stay with her forever – a night of firelight and starry skies, of stories and magic, of the world's secret wonders waiting to be discovered in the frozen heart of Nørhaven.