’I did not want to think about people.

I wanted the trees, the scents and colors,

the shifting shadows of the wood,

which spoke a language I understood.

I wished I could simply disappear in it,

live like a bird or a fox through the winter,

and leave the things I had glimpsed

to resolve themselves without me.‘

 

- P.A. McKillip, Winter Rose

folklore

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  • A portrait from the archives of winter '13.

     

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