She stood at the roof window and looked far into the distance. It was Christmas Eve, and she could still see the lights in the distant village, which seemed like tiny candles. Flickering, it flickered through the snow that quietly fell outside. It was already very late, and so she decided to go to bed. She was already old. Very old indeed. And she was alone. Alone for a long time. No one was left! Loneliness was her entertainment. And so she went to bed and extinguished the candle on her nightstand, wishing she could extinguish her own light just like that of the candle. No pain, no loneliness. Just silence! She fell asleep, even if only for a short time. And then she saw it. It was a soft, warm, and golden light that moved under the gables of her wooden ceiling like waves of warm light. A delicate humming, perhaps only in her mind, told her to follow it. And so she knew it came deep from the fir forest. And so she did it…!
She opened the door of her little hut and stepped outside. Only dressed in her thin nightgown. Barefoot and without shoes. The wind blew the snow from the north, and it was bitterly cold. And so she set off. Frail, old, and weak as she was, towards the fir forest where the light awaited her. The snow lay on her face like a mask of icy and frosty menthol and eucalyptus. Cutting and stinging was the cold. She could not see much and followed only the glow of the light. The snow was too thick, slowly turning into a storm. But she did not need to see much. She knew where she was. She smelled the bare, cold rocks that lined the path. Mineral, reverent, majestic, and ancient. Older than time, older than anything she knew, and older than she ever wanted to be. When she reached the fir forest, it became quieter around her. She felt the pine needles through the snow cover under her bare feet. It hurt, but she didn't care. So much hurt. She was used to it! And then it suddenly became brighter and brighter. She stood before the light. The light looked like a large mirror of liquid gold. And the surface moved like delicate waves in the sunshine on a mountain lake. Shimmering, soft, and soothing. She brushed her long, white, and wet hair out of her face before she decided to step into the light. And so she closed her eyes and walked towards it…!
When she opened them again, she was sitting in a soft armchair in a room. The dark room was only illuminated by the fire in the fireplace that was burning. But not only that! A festively decorated Christmas tree with red balls and sweet, waxy candles stood in the corner. It was cozy warm and pleasant, and it smelled of cedar wood and fir greenery. Around the fireplace hung red and white Christmas stockings with small wooden name tags. Very, very many of them! She thought she was alone in the room. But she was not! She heard the laughter of children and their footsteps on the wooden floor. Bare little feet ran around her. But she saw no one! A delicate-sweet and smoky scent surrounded her quietly as she felt touches. Small, smoky-soft hands caressed and stroked her old face, her white hair, her wrinkled hands, and her tired legs. Lovingly, carefully, and gently. She felt something again that she hadn't felt in a long time. Something she had missed for a very long time… love and infinite tenderness! And so she closed her eyes, filled with tears of happiness and contentment. Something was placed on her lap. She could no longer see it, but she knew what it was… and she smiled. Then came the silence, the peace, and it became dark around her…!
On the second day of Christmas, two women from the village found her. The image that opened up to them looked like a still life. She lay under the largest fir in the forest. Her body rested on a bed of fir branches. She was only wearing her nightgown and was curled up like a newborn fawn. Her long, white hair was neatly braided, and her head rested on a thick, moss-covered stone like on a pillow. Her body was covered halfway with cedar branches like with a warming blanket. It looked as if she were sleeping. But she was not! Her face was full of peace and redemption. She even smiled, and the tears she must have shed before her death were frozen. They looked like silvery-green lichens on her cheeks. Close and lovingly pressed against her body, she held something tightly with both hands. It was a red and white Christmas stocking with a wooden name tag. There was a name on it. It was her name… Eleonore! When it was later opened, it contained nuts, speculaas, and a beautiful red Christmas ornament. No one knew how she came to this gift, and it remained a mystery. Equally mysterious was that it had snowed continuously throughout the night. Everywhere in the forest lay a closed blanket of snow. Untouched, glittering white, and virgin. Only around Eleonore's resting place was it different. Close around her, footprints were found in the snow. At first, they thought they might be from animals. But they were not! They were footprints of human, bare feet. Very, very small feet like those of children. And it looked as if they had stood quietly around her. As if they had spoken a prayer in reverence…!
The soul often cries in quiet tones..!
-Klaus Seibold-
Starry Night…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xSXzw1XiDVw
Updated on 10/22/2022
Top Notes 
Ice accord
Peppermint
Heart Notes 
Rock moss
Alpine lichen
Base Notes 
Fir needle
Eucalyptus
Cedarwood
Kurai
Aspasia0
Can777
Axiomatic
Marieposa
Jeob
Floyd
Gandix
Licorice
Yatagan
