Earth and air warmed overnight.
What was supposed to be snow is rain, and here we are socked in by a mix of low-lying clouds and fog around edges, mountains concealed entirely by a veil of dove gray. The mercury will plummet tonight, and there will be at least a dusting of snow, but the possible six inches forecast earlier would have been far more useful; the land is far too dry to absorb much rainfall now.
This is perhaps not what comes first to mind when we think of winter weather, but it is an example of hard weather all the same. There will be a solid layer of ice beneath any snow that falls tonight, and it will be a relief to us not to need to go anywhere for a few days, above and beyond the relief that stems from simple seasonal exhaustion now.
This is the hard season, after all . . . and the hard days of prophecy, besides.
There is a reason that so many of our old stories link prophecy directly with winter. Yes, it’s a time of storytelling anyway, when it was traditionally too cold to be abroad any more than absolutely necessary, when the light was short and the night long and dangers could lurk anywhere in those darkened spaces, when the wise stayed sheltered by the fire as much as possible. But it wasn’t merely a function of whiling away the time; those added dangers were very real, and it made sense to remind the people of their presence in the time that they would be mostly likely to encounter them.
Then, too, there is something in the human psyche that needs a degree of hardship to shake it out of its complacency — to raise our awareness and heighten our perceptions, to make us cautious and careful, to open us to the possibilities of wisdom from beyond that we perceive only through our physical senses. It’s a phenomenon helped along, no doubt, by the strange and wonderful appearances that mark the skies this season, shooting stars and comets, sun dogs and light pillars, the Aurora Borealis and the variety of coronae and bows that ring the sun and moon at a shift in the weather: the mystical light of prophetic winter.
This week’s Friday Feature is a work that I have always associated with the mysteries of winter, manifest as it is in the visionary wisdom and prophetic dreams from across this land, those of elders and ancestors walked on long ago. From its description in the Other Artists: Wall Art gallery here on the site:
This framed collage by Preston Bellringer (Yakama/Assiniboine) melds ancient prophecies with modern media in a piece that harks back to a ’60s ethos and feel. The iconic central photograph of Chief Joseph in the upper half of the collage is surrounded by a complex synthesis of images in multiple media: photography, paint, pen and ink, even children’s stick-on decals, all telling a layered intertribal story of warriors protecting the people in their quest for a better time, a better place, one of peace. The studded wood frame is 25.25″ high by 8.5″ wide; the visible image (no glass cover) is 22.75″ high by 6″ wide (all dimensions approximate).
Mixed media; wood
$125 + shipping, handling, and insurance
Requires special handling; extra shipping charges apply
This is a complex piece, woefully underpriced, but that’s where it is, and Wings chose not to raise it. The heavy wooden frame, studded with brads in the old way, is probably more valuable than that. But it’s the art inside that has always spoken to me, its own complex melding of generations and nations, of ancient prophecy and visions adapted for todays circumstances. I have always though the inclusion of the children’s decals was an inspired touch, given that children are often far wiser and more intuitive than those of us who have had our old ways of knowing “educated” too much out of us by the colonial world.
It’s powerful piece, one perfect for the season and the weather now arriving on a cold and rising wind. This is the mystical light of prophetic winter, and we need every bit of visionary wisdom that it can teach us now.
~ Aji
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