So quiet is the beauty of December that its sonnets often go unheard. For many, winter is a season to be endured until the spring arrives and breaks through its bleakness. But for those of us that look beyond winter’s harsh climate, we believe it to be a unique and special season.

Winter is the only time of year where colours make way for the sacredness of the earth’s true form; the meadows, pounded by rain and heavy winds, are much broader and more defined than before, displaying acres of beauty, previously obscured by summer’s heavy foliage.

Knotted tree silhouettes stand gracefully against a solemn horizon that is so often complimented by a mist-laden moon; the earth’s beauty lives on through winter berries, whimsical scenes and a timeless cycle of growth and renewal.

Winter walks overflow with new sights, sounds and scents as nature reveals to us an annual treasury for the colder months ahead. And our hearts swell as our eyes explore unfamiliar terrain that compels us to share our findings with friends via heartfelt poetry, lectures and ambitious photography.

Our souls bond with the bare rusticity of the land and we find that there is more to winter than its weather; there is life in the land that is surviving, enduring and thriving; courage prevails in the depths of the wild.

As winter descends upon the earth, it reveals an enchanting complexity, a timeless cloak of life and death in unison, not just through the spring but throughout every remarkable season.

© 2016 Amelia Dashwood, All rights reserved.

Source: Winter

By GrannyMoon Posted in Pagan

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