Little Wintermoon
Although she was only eight winters old, she already understood the importance of the Winter Moon and felt drawn to the chilled air of Winter. It was a hushed time of healing and rebirth. With it came the promise of a new beginning.
She was so enthralled by the Winter Moon shining through the window panes, that she failed to notice her family had gathered around the fireplace, whispering secrets in an ancient tongue and debating the messages within “the riddles.” She had always wanted to join in, but her father had explained that she wasn’t yet old enough to receive the knowledge or attempt discernment of “the riddles.”
Feeling left out, she begged him to take her outdoors to see the Winter Moon. Surprisingly, her father agreed despite the late hour, but only if she promised to hold onto his hand and stay close. She eagerly agreed and grabbed her knitted scarf and hooded woolen cloak with the fuzzy wool-lined pockets off the carved wooden hooks by the doorway. Her mother called the color of her cloak, “blueberry,” and it was her favorite item of clothing. They didn’t have much, but what they had was cherished.
As soon as she stepped out into the winter night wearing the tall winter boots and hand-knitted gloves that were gifts from her grandmother, she felt the magic. She didn’t know what she had been expecting, but she wasn’t disappointed. The sky was alive with stars, the air was laced with crystalline frost and the cold was so intense she could feel it in her very bones.
But the most amazing thing was the Winter Moon, shining with a ghostly light and glimmering like an ice crystal, both beautiful and powerful in equal measure. She wanted to stay outdoors just to keep its light upon her face, but her father insisted upon going inside after only a few minutes.
The entire evening she felt she was wearing a cloak of peace and tranquility. Intuitively she knew that despite any difficulties, the Winter Moon would bring her comfort and healing.
Maiden Wintermoon
When the girl grew to be a maiden, she was memorized by the Winter Moon illuminating the night sky with its pale light, casting its long shadows over the quiet town as it slept.
She had always loved the winter for its quiet beauty, as if the entire world was submerged in a silent and mysterious dream.
She wanted to go out into the shadowy cover of night, to feel the light of the Winter Moon on her skin. She threw on her heavy slate gray cloak, the color of storm clouds, and stepped into the frosty gloam. For as far as she could see, the snow silently carpeted the earth in a stillness she could read with all of her senses. In the chatty hush, she heard stories woven and told over centuries.
She looked up to the sky, her breath forming a white cloud in the cold air. She felt as if she could touch the Winter Moon, as if its light was wrapping her in a safe embrace.
She was pulled to the silvery circle, feeling that same magical pull that guided her ancient ancestors.
She stayed outside until the chill of the night told her she must return home. The snow crunched under her boots as the Winter Moon illuminated her steps homeward. Even indoors by the wood burning stove, a piece of the Winter Moon resided with her in her heart.
©️ 2023 All Rights Reserved / MW 🤍
Such a beautiful story you told here MW… captivating our hearts and imagination… ❤
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Thanks so much, dear Sue. Trying my hand at a new genre. 🙏🩶🙏
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Love it 💖
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Many thanks (((Sue))) 😍😘 I’m working on another one.
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Gorgeous storytelling❣️
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Thank you! 🩶🙏
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Such beautiful writing and imagery you evoked. Truly magical.
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Thanks so much for your lovely comment, Miriam! 🩶🙏🩶
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Great story dear lady, that lunar light and its memories has always been a part of us 😀❤️🙏
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🩶 Thank you, (((Mark)))! 🩶 I have the next chapter up and there’s a little writing prompt/challenge attached to it. May the light of moon radiate blessings upon you, my dear friend. 🙏
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How are you, dear friend? Thinking of you. 🩶 Did you find out anything more about your moving or not moving situation?
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I love this! 🌕 ❄️
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🩶 Many thanks, Colleen! 🩶
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You’re welcome.
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