A world loaded into the abyss of a magical, gloomy transformation; doors between worlds, wide open, icy gusts of an unearthly wind, carrying crazy, wild voices: SOMETHING unknown, nameless, inhuman wanders along the very edges of consciousness, plunging it into a raging icy darkness ... The snow cover, mercifully thrown by Marena, did not have time fasten properly the raging forces of the magical foundations of the earth; the shadows of the ancestors, resting in blissful silence, return to the world to dance in a wild magical, lunar magical dance with descendants distraught with fear... (M. Grashina. "About calendars")