spare oom.

 Looking into the inside, she saw several coats hanging up-mostly long fur coats.

There was nothing Lucy liked so much as the smell and feel of fur.

She immediately stepped into the wardrobe and got in among the coats and rubbed her face against them,

leaving the door open, of course, because she knew that it is very foolish to shut oneself into any wardrobe.

Soon she went further in and found that there was a second row of coats hanging up behind the first one.

It was almost quite dark in there and she kept her arms stretched out in front of her so as not to bump her face into the back of the wardrobe.

 She took a step further in --- then two or three steps --- always expecting to feel woodwork against the tips of her fingers.

 But she could not feel it.

 "This must be a simply enormous wardrobe!" thought Lucy,

 going still further in and pushing the soft folds of the coats aside to make room for her.

 Then she noticed that there was something crunching under her feet. 

 "I wonder is that more moth-balls?" she thought, stooping down to feel it with her hand.

 But instead of feeling the hard, smooth wood of the floor of the wardrobe, she felt something soft and powdery and extremely cold.

 "This is very queer," she said, and went on a step or two further.

 Next moment she found that what was rubbing against her face and hands was no longer soft fur but something hard and rough and even prickly.

 "Why, it is just like branched of trees!" exclaimed Lucy.

 And then she saw that there was a light ahead of her;

 not a few inches away where the back of the wardrobe out to have been, but a long way off.

Something cold and soft was falling on her.

 A moment later she found that she was standing in the middle of a wood at night-time with snow under her feet and snowflakes falling through the air.

with snow under her feet and snowflakes falling through the air.

Lucy felt a little frightened, but she felt very inquisitive and excited as well.

 She looked back over her shoulder and there,

 between the dark tree-trunks,

 she could still see the open doorway of the wardrobe and even catch a glimpse of the empty room from which she had set out.

 (She had, of course, left the door open, for she knew that it is a very silly thing to shut oneself into a wardrobe.)

 It seemed to be daylight there.

 "I can always get back if anything goes wrong," thought Lucy. 

 She began to walk forward,

 crunch-crunch over the snow

and through the wood toward the other light. 

Excerpt from "The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe", by C.S. Lewis

Photographs by Annabel Mehran

Dear snow,

you showed your face last week.

Please come back soon.