"Winter Woods Wandering" (Image and Text Copyright Wylddane Productions, LLC)
The man walked through the quiet winter woods, his boots pressing into the snow with a soft crunch. The cold air kissed his cheeks, the scent of pine and frost filling his lungs. He pulled his coat tighter around him, though he hardly noticed the chill. His mind was far away, drifting through the years, hearing the voices of those he had loved—his parents, long gone now, yet still alive in the echo of his memory. Friends, lovers, the laughter of youth. He even thought of the furry companions who had once walked beside him—dogs bounding through the fields, cats curling into his lap by the fire. It had been a good life, he realized, and the weight of time did not feel heavy, but light, like a snowflake settling on his glove.
Emerging from the trees, he came to the edge of the woods, where a field of unbroken snow stretched before him. Beyond it, a deeper forest waited, its dark branches stark against the pale sky. He paused, breathing in the silence, watching the way the light danced across the frozen landscape.
Then, in an instant, everything shifted.
The air around him grew warm, the scent of earth and wildflowers replacing the crisp bite of winter. The wind, once a cold whisper, became a gentle summer breeze, rustling the tall grass that now swayed where snow had been only moments before. Birds called to one another in the canopy of the forest ahead, their songs weaving into the golden light that streamed through lush green leaves. He looked down at his feet. His footprints remained in the snow, stark and undeniable, yet beneath them, he could feel the soft give of sun-warmed earth.
He turned his head and caught the flicker of movement—there, in the bare branches of winter, a bird perched, its feathers ruffled against the cold. Yet, at the same time, he saw it in the summer’s embrace, singing from the full, leafy boughs, bathed in sunlight. The two realities existed together, layered like a reflection in ice and water.
He stepped forward, and the light shifted again—snow and grass, ice and water, cold and warmth, each moment folding into the next. The past and the present, winter and summer, all existing at once. A deep knowing settled within him. Time was an illusion. The mind, untethered from its expectations, could hold all things at once.
He closed his eyes and let himself exist in both worlds. He felt the warmth of summer in his soul, even as his breath curled in the winter air. He understood now—what he focused on expanded. This moment, this life, was his to shape. He had always held that power.
With a final glance at the landscape—at the footprints that marked where he had been and the open path before him—he turned back toward the woods, carrying summer within him as he walked into winter’s embrace.
~Wylddane
Emerging from the trees, he came to the edge of the woods, where a field of unbroken snow stretched before him. Beyond it, a deeper forest waited, its dark branches stark against the pale sky. He paused, breathing in the silence, watching the way the light danced across the frozen landscape.
Then, in an instant, everything shifted.
The air around him grew warm, the scent of earth and wildflowers replacing the crisp bite of winter. The wind, once a cold whisper, became a gentle summer breeze, rustling the tall grass that now swayed where snow had been only moments before. Birds called to one another in the canopy of the forest ahead, their songs weaving into the golden light that streamed through lush green leaves. He looked down at his feet. His footprints remained in the snow, stark and undeniable, yet beneath them, he could feel the soft give of sun-warmed earth.
He turned his head and caught the flicker of movement—there, in the bare branches of winter, a bird perched, its feathers ruffled against the cold. Yet, at the same time, he saw it in the summer’s embrace, singing from the full, leafy boughs, bathed in sunlight. The two realities existed together, layered like a reflection in ice and water.
He stepped forward, and the light shifted again—snow and grass, ice and water, cold and warmth, each moment folding into the next. The past and the present, winter and summer, all existing at once. A deep knowing settled within him. Time was an illusion. The mind, untethered from its expectations, could hold all things at once.
He closed his eyes and let himself exist in both worlds. He felt the warmth of summer in his soul, even as his breath curled in the winter air. He understood now—what he focused on expanded. This moment, this life, was his to shape. He had always held that power.
With a final glance at the landscape—at the footprints that marked where he had been and the open path before him—he turned back toward the woods, carrying summer within him as he walked into winter’s embrace.
~Wylddane
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