A Winters Tale

“A Winters Tale” Series Artist Statement:

Early warning
She arose, drowsy. Fingers of diffuse light danced on the ceiling, her eyes now following the patterns. With an exclamation, she swung off the bed, running to the wide uncurtained windows: her tree now gloved with fresh snow hung silent, waiting. All was silent, new, untested.

Very silently, she rose. Though the glass swirled with crystalline patterns, she could make out a crescent moon, high in the sky, and the silhouette of bare branches. This would make the third month of her incarceration.

Frozen, the furrows made walking difficult. A cow lowed somewhere, dawn was near. She stretched to match their pace, sensing haste, not understanding. Here and there, patches of snow remained, but the earth itself had turned dark and hostile.

The earth was chanting, a low song of deliverance: from trees, a stream of droplets, then another. Icicles broke off, then shattered. There was sun, there was a new kind of light, there was wet earth, happy mud, and every body knew the long dark dream had come to an end. But she also wanted to shout a goodbye to the quiet snowy mornings, the buried villages, snowflakes caught on the tongue, winter magic and all its inhabitants. Not all was evil, a lesson learned.

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