Snowstorm

Mittens cautiously hold a steaming cup
Hot sweet tea and chocolate–the secret formula
We huddle leeward behind a boulder
White-out rolls over us like an angry dragon
Your eyes crinkle mischievously
A frosting sheet breaks off my bandana
Storm tugs my outer layer
Yet the dragon’s talons can’t reach me
Snug as a bug in a rug I am
Thick insulation sheet: we can sit on the ground
It’s big enough to wrap us both in an emergency
A rescue helicopter is circling climbers on the north face
You offer a chocolate bar and I swap you tea
Our ascent only needed shirts and I wondered if we over packed
When lugging all that stuff up the hill
I smile at the ice dragon and sacrifice a sip of sweet tea
Definitely not
Scottish mountains are like that
Never underestimate the power of your elders
Even if their smiles are tooth gapped and worn
A laugh bursts forth I barely catch it above the roar
In response I spread my arms
A sliver of blue breaks through the furry of crystals
We watch as they slow their dance
The dragon goes back to sleep
I remove my snow goggles and we grin at one another–untamed

snow clouds begin to sink into the valley the rough mountains tower around us

Winter Mountain Training

Be bothered
Check each other
Layers off
Layers on
Gloves yes
Gloves no
Kick crampons
into icy snow

Be bothered
Be bothered just so
Stay warm
But not hot
Hydrate
Find a spot
Take a photo
Go wee

Be bothered
Poles out
Poles in
Ice axe out
Helmet on
–Always
Sturdy gloves
Feet sideways

Be bothered
Be bothered just so
Waterproofs
Wooly socks
Self-Belay
Avoid the rocks
Play in snow
And be bothered

Be bothered just so

it’s blowing a hooley

New Year’s Snow

Smell the cold
Ionised air
Exhale the year
Inhale lucidity

Clarity by nature
A thousand rainbows
Painted with frozen chaos

Cold burns my cheeks
Mitten hidden fingers

In their cozy cradle
I puff out release
Letting go of what serves no longer

Iss: a rune of becoming

This is a mixed media art piece, the bear I found online but despite undertaking reverse image search could not find the actual artist who drew the bear 😦

Echoes of the past
Vibrate in the snow
Little clouds of icy dust
Unsettled by sound
Iss: rune of rest and pause
Life happens underneath the ice
Underneath the blanket of snow it stirs
not yet ready to wake
not yet ready to move
not yet ready to grow

February

Pale grey slush
Generously dispensed from above
February
The mornings lighten

By the way
Who thought that first R made sense?

Ice-cold faces
Attacked by even icier, colder needles
Thrown full force
Against numb skin

By the way
Wasn’t there spring in the air?
Just yesterday?

Super-moon hung hidden
Behind thick clouds
This morning
Árvakr and Alsviðr were too slow

By the way
Have you read the Edda yet?

What are the stories
That keep you going
During the dark times
In the midst of winter?


Snow too

Silent sounds
Quiet views
The mind calms

A frozen world
Standstill
A robin huddling in a huff
Freezing
A fox carefully lifts his feet
Snowbound

Snow

In the depth of stillness
The whole world is a soundproof room
Colours bleached with bright filter

In the depth of stillness

Green pointy ears of daffodils
Still to be seen yesterday
Misplaced optimism

In the depth of stillness

Ripe camelia buds
Covered in a thick blanket of ice
Smart move

In the depth of stillness

The snowdrops have gone under
Two blackbirds chase each other
Overzealous

In the depth of stillness

We all huddle down and wait
Short sprints into the eternal white
Leaves cheeks and noses red

In the depth of stillness
Stories are born