The woods are quiet this time of year. The snow falls deeply, muffling what noise there is. There is no wind, no bird calls, no ghostly whispers in the dark as the trees stand sentinel. It is peaceful and, with the peace, comes the swelling of love for what gifts the woods provide. Last winter was one of cold, famine, and heartache. This begins as one filled with plenty, warmth, and joy.
The trees of the woods are scarred and aged by the myriad changes that rampaged through it last year but this year begins calm and the woods have begun to heal. The peace and quiet, the empty silence gives these old trees time to deal with wounds that once seemed too deep to ever heal. Mayhaps when the fierce howling chill of true winter is upon them they will have healed enough to silence their creaks and moans.
For now they are content to be naked, together, blanketed in white and quiet. There will be plenty of time for the noise of wind and water, animal and antler, ghost and goblin later…
“You are terrifying and strange and beautiful…”