#wintercore
St. Anne Catholic Church, Zieleniec, Poland by Kasia Mojek
Barycz Valley, Poland by Jakub Wencek
Silesian Beskids, Poland by Agata Zadara
Karkonosze (Giant Mountains), Poland by daniellamotte
Poronin, Poland by podniebny_kot
vanilla
An entrance to spring
Hello dear ranger, remember as you pass through this march as the little marshes wash away against your boot as you trip over cobblestones and jump over walls The forest will always be watching and waiting as you trace my leaves that have started to grow from my branches. Pick the fruit from my from my trees as my arms. Reach down to curse your face with my leaves as the raindrops onto your head The wind will constantly whisper your name, whisking you away too far away places, but also do not forget my sister the highlands as her grass grows into a warm summer. We will currently be entering spring. Don’t forget to rest against her deer beds as you carefully make your bed of hay. Don’t forget the cows that are grazing in the fields or the sky. That is so blue and wondrous like a sea up above instead of seafoam you’ll be looking at clouds washing away the night sky as the sun dips into the day. But dear ranger, I do not only have a sister in the Highlands. I also have a sister in the mountains. Remember as you climb her rocks and her terrain as her snow melts as you step and crunch through the harsh winter into my sister’s and their spring. Remember how you feel and how you have survived through this harsh winter many things have come gone but you and my sibling stay constant now. Go along dear ranger, I’ll always be waiting with my branches extending to you.
A sleep in a tavern
Dear Ranger, As you lay on your feathered pillow listening to the wind of a cold winter’s night. Think of your travel. Think of the beginning in a small little village in a small little country. Out in the open. Think of the steps you have climbed,The creatures you befriended, The ones you traded with, And the ones you passed. Think of the sun as it shined through the trees or the meadows you saw straw sticking out of. Think of the doe as she lay with her child. Think of the winter cold as it swept in touching all with a chilly kiss. Think dear Ranger as you pay for your lodgings. Being indoors does not make you less outdoors it can be an adventure as much inside an inn as it is out there. Think dear Ranger before you dream of the winter festival you enjoyed with the villagers of this new town. Now dream dear ranger drift off in your river of sleep. And for you dear ranger have a sweet dream of your happy holiday.
A remembrance of winter.
Dear ranger remember the air of winter as you sit on the stone wall at the edge of the woods. With crisp air breaking in and out of your frozen nose as your hands run over every finger of the other for heat. Oh dear ranger remember the love you had for the fall before as you danced amongst the stones with ghosts in the highlands listening to their instruments. Remember the warmth of summer as you lounged on hills watching horses drink from creeks below as you chewed on fresh corn you traded the farmer for. Remember finally the fresh scent of spring the rain of a rebirth after the dead in the snow. Now dear ranger as you sit on your stone wall running your fingers over eachother look to the sky for your next adventure. We woods will stay as you travel through us once more. Waiting to flourish for your spring. So go along now dear ranger were waiting for you.
you were the only one awake to see it
love you snow much <3
°•*✧things I want for x-mas✧*•°
♡glowing stickews
♡some new crystals
♡cute socks
♡biiig sweater
♡sparkling nail polish
♡new candle
♡to bake some chocolate cookies
♡to make a few good memowies with my loved ones
♡to buy or make some gifts
The light snow falls around the store.
You step inside. The fireplace is roaring. There is tea set to warm on it’s edge. And yet the kind shopkeep is nowhere to be seen.
A new shipment of the finest oddities are strewn across the desk, left half unpacked.
Thwack!
You whirl towards the green bottle glass windows, surprised to see one open, letting the wind blow in gentle snowflakes.
You walk over through the shattered remains of a snowball to close it and see Fillie laughing outside.
Little mouse!
She calls.
Come out and enjoy the snow!
Another snowball is ready, as she tosses it lightly, before letting it drop back into her hand.
Her cheeks are tinged pink from the cold, but her eyes are bright, joyful.
Well? C’mon! What are you waiting for?
