Under his grey coat, Sky announces to the Parisian inhabitants an imminent snowfall. The ground, tree branches and roofing already covered with a thin layer of white gold protects the city from doom. Dwellers in their heavy fur coats march with difficulty over the thick blanket  enveloping the pavements. In Paris, the atmosphere is dull but oh so comfortable. The impenetrable aura leads each inhabitant home. Home, they are nested like birds hibernating in the middle of a cold harsh winter. The city has dimmed and the conversations of people sound like murmurs to Sky rejoicing from above. The Louvre museum will soon close its doors due to unforeseeable weather. Smoke will  emanate from the numerous chimneys of Paris, creating a second layer of grey hovering over/above the city, and leaving scent of burned wood. In the silence of the night, small frail snowflakes will descend and dance in the air, shining as they twirl, like star dust in a dark background. In the comfort of their homes, leaning against window sills, Parisians will marvel before this monochromatic landscape. Upon glancing at the snowfall, enamoured with the romance of winter they will let slip a smile. Sky will acquiesce in return, proud of making the world a place of beauty.