“The forest’s thousands of hands were gray, and its millions of fingers were silver. Bright and dim stars in the dark sky of a greenish-blue slate sparkled and sparkled like pieces of ice. The entire district, overgrown with dense forest and sparsely populated, was shackled by severe frost. The black spaces between the tree trunks resembled the bottomless dark caves of the cruel Scandinavian hell, the abode of inexpressible cold. Even the square stone bell tower seemed a monument to northern paganism, like some barbarian tower among the seaside cliffs of Iceland. The night was clearly not suitable for exploring the cemetery; on the other hand, it deserved attention..."