I Met the Winter Hallows

rhoda anne young
4 min readJul 21, 2023
"Blue Feet" art by rhoda

Planning is usless. Not even my buju could save my soul this year so I took an extended break. Winter was hell. And I'm almost a starving artist because of it.

This last winter was so harsh. For almost three entire months l found myself cocooned in so many layers of clothing, it almost became impossible to move.My chest so tight, breathing such cold air it felt as if it were about to crack under the strain.

Attempts to improve the situation ment lighting the flimsiest of candles (made of some weak paraffin concoction & the only things available) and placing them under a terracotta pot, hoping to produce some heat within the tent. It was minimally effective. Mustering only a gentle warmth which spread a mere half meter from the pot. Their tiny flames soon extinguishing from exhaustion.

Outside icicles formed on the trees guided by the heavy night frosts. As each dawn broke we could hear them thudding from the flimsy branchesthey clung to, smashing into the ground as they met their periless death. The forest floor carpeted with their deep icy chill.

Along the cold icy canal, only a few meters away we could here the cracking of ice as boats attempted to chug their retreat away from the bitter winter hallows. But it was hopeless. They moved only a few meters before becoming entrenched in the icy wall once more.

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rhoda anne young
rhoda anne young

Written by rhoda anne young

A R.A.Y of Hope amidst a Sea of Cerebral Turbulence! An enigmatic rose, forever graceful, forever young, forever learning. Fiction, Poetry, Art, Culture & Life

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