The scene unfolds with a haunting dreaminess. It is as if a phantasmagoria has taken hold, with figures that seem to float and glide, half-human, half-avian, caught in a tempest of the mind. A tree, gnarled and skeletal, acts as a focal point; from its branches, winged figures take flight, their faces a mix of human and monstrous features. They are neither angels nor demons, but something in between—a visual representation of the anxieties of the era.

Below, a group huddles together, their forms rendered with a delicate touch that heightens the sense of vulnerability. One figure, shrouded in a large white cloth, looks upward with an expression of alarm, while others attend to a small, limp figure. The etching technique, with its precise lines and subtle gradations of tone, gives the scene a palpable texture; I can almost feel the cold air and the weight of the unspoken dread. This is a work that speaks volumes without uttering a single word, a haunting reminder of the human condition.