A Winter Walk

Winter Walk

The moon is full and its light glistens softly off the winter snow as wind blows gently through the dry branches of trees. I walk alone on the frozen earth; my feet bare and worn as I fluently move through the dense brush. My heart becomes light and satisfied as the snow crunches under my toes, each step full with more life than the next. I breathe the cool air and lift my face to welcome the chilling scent of roots and bark that dance amongst the trees. Tonight is the clearest I’ve seen in a long time and not even the densely crossing branches can hide the galaxies overhead. As I look onward to the sky, I feel every part of my being lit aflame, like a million suns burning within me.

I continue walking faster, weaving myself between the trees. My cloak draped elegantly on my shoulders and past my ankles, the silky fabric following behind me like a tail. I would love to have a tail and for tonight I shall pretend. Lifting the cloak, I twirl it to my side dragging it back and forth just like a majestic wild beast. It brings me joy to think myself the same as a creature wandering the night with desire in its heart.

I have never felt more divine than in this moment. Moonbeams dance off my cheeks and ripple down onto my bosom, wrapping my body in the light, as if a million-silver butterflies were gracing me with their beauty. They carry me further into the dark on their silver wings, and when I lack the strength to continue, they lend me theirs.

Oh, how I long for the evening when I can leave all humanity behind, and how I long for the bracing cold on my limbs and how it adores me, wrapping my body in a strong sense of security. This world is like a milky-candle-lit dream that I hope I will never wake from.

The moon is almost at its peak, rising higher in the sky, and I stumble upon the trail of actual beasts. The paw-prints are large but delicate and one after the other they make a pathway through a gully. I walk along the dented earth following the prints as closely as I can, being careful not to soil their comely appeal. I feel they are leading me somewhere, to a place of great meaning, and at the end I find an old frozen pond waiting alone.

The wind pushes against my waist asking me to dance, and I accept, following its movement onto the shining pond that glistens blue under the moon’s rays. Snowflakes fly from the frozen ice as the wind and I glide in unison, rotating around each other like otters in chase. I feel so happy and I do not wish the dance to end but I fear it’s not my choice. A grand crack appears and I fall against the fractured surface before being swallowed up by wet and unwelcome cold.

My gown is heavy like a sack of stones and I begin to sink, the water is darker than the night making it impossible to know where I am, and the freezing blue stings too much to move. I feel myself slipping away within the icey mirror and there’s nothing I can do but wait. My thoughts slow, my limbs no longer struggle. My arms drift into the fractured light that sinks along with me, and my eyes flutter as they close. This was a beautiful night, the most beautiful and clearest I’ve seen in a long time, though it is lost to me now, I do not regret my walk in the woods.

When my eyes reopen, I find that the pond is gone and I am safely on land, but wet and cold. I have no memory of how I was saved, but a feeling of gentle hands pulling me from the water clings to my mind. Feeling overwhelmed and grateful I look to thank my savior but there is no one here and I am alone once again. I look to the sky and see that night has gone on without me and the silver stars have rotated across the sky once more. I lay silent and still upon a patch of frozen earth, not knowing where to go or where I’ve been. I have become lost and disoriented. The shadows of trees have grown long and lengthy, and the ancient tree trunks all stand in the same manner, making it impossible to tell them apart. This part of the woods is unfamiliar, and I grow more frightened by the minute. It is just me and the trees, standing under the moon on this cold winter night, neither of us knowing the way home.

I look for the gully but my search comes to a halt as a gust of wind howls in my ear and snowflakes take flight, blinding me with flashes of white. I shield myself with my arms, and when I lower them a woman dressed in silken lace appears. She stands upon a stack of moss-covered stones with a lively spring flowing from its base and purple crocus’ budding at her feet. She seems kind and gentle, and I sense no harm from her. Her face is covered with a blackened veil, and dark crochet flowers sit on top of her head. She extends her thin, pale arm and beckons me with her boney-skeleton fingers. Realizing who she is I approach and kneel at her feet, and looking up I see her smile behind her veil with deep red lips.

I have never met the keeper of death before and I have only heard of legends. She collects the souls of those who have passed and I fear that tonight she might require mine. Lady Death stays silent and she doesn’t move. I ask if she is here for me but she makes no advances, instead she gestures to me to rise and walks on by like a ghost in the mist. She stands open to the glade, the moon's rays shine down on her, radiating the beauty of her neck and specks of gold on her shoulders. She lifts her hidden face to the moon, breathing the air, and then turns and looks at me. “It’s not time,” she speaks, “I will take you back to the edge of the forest.”

She gracefully walks past me, the scent of sweet rose and ash fill my lungs. I turn to watch as she moves through the snow with such ease. She stops momentarily and turns to beckon me once more, then continues down the moss-covered banks. She moves silently through the woods, fading in and out of the shadows like black smoke twisting around the trees. I allow myself to follow and dance around the trees as she does, the two of us in sync with the rhythms of the wind.

Lady Death dances so smoothly and freely without hesitation. She is truly amazing and unbound from this world, and my doubts of her begin to shed like bark peeling away from its trunk. I no longer see her as a threat, but as gentle awakened-ness. She leads me further into the night, and one after the other we make our way through the woods, playing with the freshly draped lichen. She’s not fierce or cruel like many believe but instead is kind and forgiving. She tells me there is a plan for all living creatures and she will never take a soul until its time has come, and when it has, she brings it to a peaceful place far away from grief. A rush of wind presses against my back and I begin to understand that it was her kindness that pulled me from the pond. I look towards Lady Death and see the moonlight dapple her pale flesh. I stop in my tracks and ask her why she saved me. If her purpose is to collect the souls of the dead then why hadn’t she taken mine?

She stands silently with her hands against her coal-black gown, waiting in a content manner. She approaches and the smell of rose and ash grows thicker. Staring at her covered face I can see a hint of expression through her translucent veil. Bits of sorrow and guilt lay thin in her smile as she openly answers, “You are young and bright, and you see joy in this world that most shall never experience. It is simply not your time.” A silence falls amongst the trees as we stand momentarily in each other's presence. She then lifts her elegant hand and points to a trail of fallen cones, “follow the path and you will find your way.”

As I take my first steps a thick wind howls like wolves in the night, stirring the ground and carrying the sound of bells into the distance. When it’s done, Death is gone. Feeling grateful for my life and everything I’ve witnessed, I bow in reverence and whisper a marvelous farewell before leaving through the snow-covered brush.

The sky has become lighter and the stars grow paler. My dress is damp and without her companionship, the cold begins to sink into my bones. I follow the path that was shown to me and walk along with steady steps, anticipating its end. Spruce and cones line the path, while barn owls sit atop their branches, leading me onward, and in a short while I come to the edge of the forest.

Standing in a vast snowy field with smoke curling from its chimney is a cabin with gold trim, illuminated by oil lamps sitting in every window. It is my home; it has been awaiting my arrival and I feel that I have kept it waiting far too long. It is bright and shining with love, saying “hello”, and it brings me relief to finally see a familiar and warming sight. I bound from the trail and gather my skirt in one hand as I approach the back stoop. The creak of the wooden step and the smell of a fire soothes my heart.

As I reach for the door, I turn and stand looking outward past the frozen field, to the snow-covered forest and vast sky, in all their might and beauty, one last time. I hear the rustling of branches and I smell pine soaked in moonlight. I watch as the trees all wave “goodbye”, and I wave back and hold my face to the chilled air. I feel thankful for my life and for the time spent living, between this world and the next. I am thankful for meeting death in all her greatness, and the kind heart she holds. I exhale my breath, and then turn and open the door to the glowing embers in the hearth. With my feet bare and worn I enter my refuge and bathe in the warmth of the light. While I disrobe and lay my head down in silken pillows, I can feel the night embracing me with its gentle arms, and I fall deep into a slumber, dreaming of my winter walk.