’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
A portrait from the archives of winter '13.