Heavy and widespread snow fell early that February. Due to this, his course in Bedford was cancelled one week, and he travelled to her village instead.
In glorious sunshine and bitter cold, they walked around the field path to the wood, and wandered for some hours in a white wonderland of glittering crystal droplets laced around bare branches like diamond jewellery, like glistening ropes of pearls.
They played in the thick soft snow, explored and got lost, stood in awe at the way snow shaped and transformed trees, stumps, undergrowth... The cold was intense, the sun even stronger. They hugged, kissed, ran around. Coppelia was so happy she felt her heart was actually on fire.
Following a hearty pub lunch in a nearby village they made their way back towards his home, stopping for a while to visit their old friend, the silver birch wood. This, too, was all white quiet splendour. Once more, late that night, remembering the blissful hours earlier, when that old hurt stirred, Coppelia heard her inner voice murmour... 'A day like this'
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