A blast of wind and snow almost knocked them over. Lucia thrust Oliver across the threshold into the dark gray of late day, then Rosa, then Iris. She slammed the cellar door shut behind them. “Follow me!” she cried out. “Run as fast as you can! Now!” And thus they leaped into an unknown and distant past, into a bitter and frigid, snowy late afternoon in dark December of the year 1891.
— Silence of Snow