Preventing the entry of the aristocratic family and some of its particularly gloomy inhabitants into the body, it is difficult to imagine the virgin beauty of the forest stretching behind the inhospitable stately mansion. And only the daughter of Dracula knows that the age-old trees in that forest support the sky, that streams of sunlight still break through their crown from time to time. And, if you deliberately stomp a neat foot on the mint moss bedding several times, the raised dust particles will gilder in the sun pillars for a long time, performing an outlandish dance.