It's nighttime, deep in the forest, and while it should be dark, a strange, almost golden glow shines through the trees, gleaming particles blown by a wind that pierces the fog. Two young women walk down a barely recognizable path. There is a weird yet very real presence, imbued with a magic found as much in big-city salons as here, in the wilderness, next to a cabin on a lake, where a silhouette has taken refuge: motionless, a man observes the night passing.
—Festival nouveau cinéma