Among tall-aching pines, a grove lies embedded in the heart of winter, where silence reigns its crown. Each step heaves with an impression of transient existence on each powdery surface, a testament to fleeting moments all but forgotten. Needles and nettles fray— heavy with frost— glistening under dim eyes of light. They create a tapestry that celebrates both beauty and desolation.

Here, breath meets air while in the grasp of peppermint-splendors embrace. A cloud of mist rises in the chill, evaporating like long-concealed dreams. The murmur of a distant stream rushes at the cusp, muffled beneath layers of ice. It sings to astray wanderers. An echo of resilience that defies the cold.

This was written by our contributing writer, Claire Kroening.