Despite brilliantly clear skies this morning, it appears that the short-range forecast has changed sufficiently to induce the weather service to issue a special weather statement. No longer relegated to a small chance of snow on Thursday, the prediction today is for a better chance of snow both Thursday and Friday, and perhaps into Saturday, with the possibility of actual accumulation.
No, we cannot depend on it, but it is more than enough grounds for hope.
Accumulation or no, snow is always a gift here at Red Willow. That is both truth and truism, even in the best of times, but in recent years it has become something beyond truth, something so fundamental as to be part of the warp and weft of being. In the aftermath of protective actions and protests alike elsewhere, the phrase “Water is life” has become so facile in the colonial contexts now appropriating it as to be devoid of anything more than performance: hollow, as arid and lifeless itself as the physical lack it purports to describe. Here, though? It is an example of Indigenous knowledges, Indigenous wisdoms, a truth manifest at the level of body and breath, cell and spirit. It’s not something that those who belong to this land have ever needed to “learn,” because that knowledge has always been a part of who the people are.
It’s a wisdom that serves them well now, as colonial anthropogenic climate change takes an ever-firmer hold of the land, as the ensuing drought tightens what is already a death grip. I had occasion to venture part of the way into our south field late yesterday, and even as I see the changes unfold before my eyes daily, it’s still stunning, with the weight of a physical blow, to find oneself on a patch of earth suddenly so dry and devoid of life that it resembles nothing so much as a parking lot, tire tracks and all.
The usual approaches will not serve us now, and we cannot expect to return to normal.
There is no “normal” now.
It means learning to adapt, yes, but also to evolve: to adjust our expectations to something that differs vastly from what we are accustomed to seeing, to accepting that our future will not match up to the fond aspects of memory. It means letting go of hopes that have no chance of being fulfilled, and seeking the wisdom to find a new way forward in a world of a different beauty now.
It means finding illumination for a still-dark path, and within our hearts, gratitude for it.
It seems all the harder as the days grow ever shorter, the nights ever longer, and despite this recent unseasonal daytime warmth, those nights are imbued with a dark and bitter cold now.
And yet, one lesson humanity seems to need to learn and relearn, individually and collectively throughout the whole of life, of human existence, is that it is the darker edges that render the light so beautiful. If you’ve ever felt tears gather at the sight of an otherworldly sunrise or sunset, you’ll know what I mean: Some gifts are valuable precisely for their momentary beauty, because they are phenomena both ethereal and ephemeral.
In this place, so it is with the light, and never more so than now: Whether at dawn or at dusk, our small world comes alive with the magic of a wintry twilight radiance, medicine for souls chilled by the cold and the impending dark.
Today’s featured works, imagery and silverwork alike, all embody this great gift of the elemental spirits. The three photos here today were all captured with Wings’s old film camera on the first day of the calendar in 2013 — no longer autumn, as this day is, at least officially, but not far yet into formal winter, either. All three are of a piece with yesterday’s featured image, and with a few more not represented here this week, all shot within moments of each as the sun descended on that first day of a new [colonial] calendar year. The clouds had begun to part, just, but the snow still fell, swirling softly and gently around us, and the twilight turned the world shades of silver and amber and scarlet, a momentary radiant magic, mystery, and medicine bound together in a few moments of snow and light.
The image above was one of the earlier images from those few short minutes, sun still mostly above the ridgeline to the west, backlighting the tall aspen and squat cedar in a glowing and perfect blend of silver and gold. People tend to think of deciduous trees in winter as dead (they’re not; merely dormant), but the bones of this slender aspen were brought alive in the light.
Today’s two featured works of wearable art are the embodiment of this illuminating medicine, wrought in silver and stone. These are current entries in one of Wings’s sometime signature series of earrings manifest as the rays of the sun, small traditional concha-style earrings that glow and dance. Perhaps fittingly, in recent years he’s created small collections in miniature of these pieces mostly near year’s-end, both at the time when the light itself is most scarce and when it manifests in some of its most beautiful forms. There are currently three pairs in this informal series remaining, one of which is manifest as a different form of light and thus only linked below. The other two are of a piece with today’s imagery, near-perfect analogues of shade and symbol and spirit. We begin with the first, which evokes the colors of the photos above and immediately below, silver and amber, albeit from the perspective of the other form of twilight. From their description in the Earrings Gallery here on the site:
Dawn Light Earrings
Our days are born in the fiery golden glow of the dawn light, warm and timeless as flowing amber. In the third entry in this revival of his signature series of earrings that honor the light, Wings pays tribute to the illuminating fire of the sunrise by way of an old traditional style wrought in materials of an ancient spirit. Each drop is a perfectly circle domed from beneath, repoussé-fashion, t0 create a softly rounded concha. Across the front, an eight-pointed star extends to cardinal and ordinal points by way of hand-stamped spokes fanning outward around the center. Each spoke ends in a hoop whose task it is to link the lodge pattern, radiant with the literal and metaphorical light, that lies between each tiny circle. At the center of the starburst, in a sawtoothed bezel, sits a single round cabochon of intensely glowing amber, a radiant orb in the color and shape of a miniature sun. Conchas are polished to a brilliant mirror finish; tiny silver jump rings attach the earrings securely to sterling silver wires. Earrings are 7/8″ across (excluding jump rings and wires); cabochons are 3/16″ across (dimensions approximate).
Sterling silver; amber
$350 + shipping, handling, and insurance
These photos were captured at dusk, but the hues of the sky and the magic of the light could just as easily have occurred at dawn. Indeed, at this time of year, still autumn by the calendar’s reckoning, sunrise is typically when our skies are at their most radiant.
Still if the week’s forecast holds, we may yet see these skies at sunset: In lieu of a green gradient’s clarity, amber and coral, rose and crimson, all dusted with shimmering silver snow.
This series of images showed a world on fire in the best possible way, one decidedly different from the more literal fires that haunt us yearly now. It was the gift of a warming flame to take the edge of the chill and the damp, a beauty so stunning that it kept us out of doors simply to bear witness long after our fingers and toes had gone numb.
Back then, we had no indoor fire by which to warm ourselves again. Now, we are fortunate enough to have that gift once again, and despite the unseasonal temperatures out of doors, one is blazing now, the better to keep the adobe at work holding in the heat for when the mercury plunges tonight.
The second of today’s two featured works of wearable art, a pair of earrings from the same series, embodies the gift of the flames — both the literal flames now burning in the woodstove and the metaphorical ones of the glowing sunset sky. From their description in the same gallery:
Firelight Earrings
The spirits have granted us the gift of firelight, a glow to illuminate our surroundings even as it warms body and soul alike. The fourth in this, Wings’s signature series of earrings that honor the light, honors the blessings of the third element, fire, in traditional form around a less common jeweled spirit. Each drop is a perfectly circle domed from beneath, repoussé-fashion, t0 create a softly rounded concha. Across the front, an eight-pointed star extends to cardinal and ordinal points by way of hand-stamped spokes fanning outward around the center. Each spoke ends in a hoop whose task it is to link the lodge pattern, radiant with the literal and metaphorical light, that lies between each tiny circle. At the center of the starburst, in a sawtoothed bezel, sits a single round cabochon of changeably crimson carnelian stone, not entirely opaque nor entirely translucent, but as mysterious as flame itself. Conchas are polished to a soft Florentine finish; tiny silver jump rings attach the earrings securely to sterling silver wires. Earrings are 7/8″ across (excluding jump rings and wires); cabochons are 3/16″ across (dimensions approximate).
Sterling silver; carnelian
$350 + shipping, handling, and insurance
[As noted briefly above, there is a third pair from this series still remaining in inventory, also found in the same gallery but not shown here today: a pair called Dust Light, a phenomenon of warmer winds, or at least of those without the gift of the snow. They are of a piece with the series, but not precisely with the phenomena found in today’s featured images.]
The carnelian at the center of these earrings is the exact shade of the crimson fire in the sky in the last of today’s images. These are displayed here today in the order taken, although there were others captured before, after, and in between. This was one of the last, as dark began to fall.
The haze of the falling snow was sufficient to mask all signs of current human habitation, leaving only the trees and the listing posts of the old fence silhouetted in the light. It reminds me of the imagery of old Victorian-themed Christmas cards, of pristine landscapes untouched by human hands and feet, blanketed in the purity of falling snow, and falling light.
And it reminds me, too, of the importance of welcoming such gifts when they do deign to fall: the breath of life itself, the power of illumination that births wisdom, the medicine they create combined. In this place, a wintry twilight radiance is no mere sunset, but a gift of otherworldly beauty and power.
If we are fortunate, we may be granted such a gift before the week is done.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2020; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
