Recently some lyrical observations appeared on a Siberian website. "You're slowly making your way through the tree branches, in search of something or other. There's darkness all around; nothing can be seen. In fact it's so quiet, you can also hear your footsteps in the snow. You inhale - and move further. Somewhere in the distance, a faint light is visible. An object is buried in the snow. You pick it up and discover an image, drawn with music. It was made especially for you by an elderly owl. She must have dropped it as she flew past..." These imaginary locations trump dull actuality elsewhere. Another wistful passage, penned by the same author in Russian, reads: "You think everything has perished. But no, the forest has long awaited new inspiration and ancient melodies. It has waited for the melodies that burst forth from the snow - and ascend in dazzling fountains of sound. You'll soon understand what's happening here; soon you'll comprehend the secrets of a magical forest. Everything's in a state of hushed anticipation. Somewhere in the distance an elderly owl is calling - as it waits for the onset of a cold winter." In both of these sketches, a lone figure discovers a surprising bond with a distant, snowy location. Solitude is more telling than social existence; it's also unveiled in sound, rather than through wordy analysis. These understated celebrations of loneliness and the Siberian landscape have been well received in and around Novosibirsk, a city which is home to their author, Darya Diez (aka Darya Shakhova). Known already to us as a singer-songwriter, Diez is here showcasing an instrumental project known - fittingly enough - as The Owl. The album itself is called "Fairy Forest."