Solstice past, new year unfurling ahead of us like a dirt track between fields of snow: We live now in a world no longer waiting.
Here at Red Willow, we are not quite down to the business of winter in full yet; that will require deep snows and a deeper cold, and a decided lack of holiday distractions. But there’s no denying that the season is here in force, and a good thing, too. The forecast predicts snow for today, and for much off the remainder of this holiday week, and for this place, that would perhaps be the greatest gift of all.
Still, the snow is not expected to amount to much more than a dusting, at least in the week’s early days. Enough for ground cover; enough to whiten peaks and slopes; likely not enough to prevent a floating azure and a pale sun from finding their way through the stormclouds here and there, although at this moment, post-dawn, the skies float with shades of gray.
Of fugitive blues and suns, the former find expression — indeed, identity and very name — in the first of today’s two featured works, unrelated by category but bound, in part, by stone and spirit. It’s a pair of earrings in the shades of winter skies and stormy light; from their description in the Earrings Gallery here on the site:
Floating Azure Earrings
Our world soars on warm silver winds and floating azure skies. Wings gives form and life to wind and sky and the small spirits that inhabit them with these butterfly earrings, all graceful silver wings holding at their heart perfect blues of summer skies. Each dangling drop flares elegantly at top and bottom, winglines articulated, repoussé-fashion, with shimmering depth. At the center of each earring, a tiny round cabochon of bright blue lapis lazuli rests in the embrace of a plain, low-profile bezel. Earrings hang 1-3/8″ long by 1″ across at the widest point; lapis cabochons are 3/16″ across (dimensions approximate).
Sterling silver; lapis lazuli
$525 + shipping, handling, and insurance
Today, the tracks of the sky mimic those below, each a storm road cutting a path for the weather to follow.
Here, it’s supposed to arrive sometime after noon, although the radar map makes that prospect seem unlikely still. The map of our world outside the window, though, is cold and damp and lowering, so heavy with moisture that the scent of snow rides the wind.
And our world will welcome it. As in the image, such snow as remains from our last real storm is patchy now, a remnant white that reveals too much of the pale wintry gold of the wild grasses beneath it. The sage in the south field is born for dry seasons, but it, too, is thirsty now; most of the plants are much smaller than they used to be, conserving their resources to cope with year-round drought. The younger evergreens mostly remain lush at all seasons, if not, perhaps, growing quite so tall as their elders. Still, they are a reminder that this land thrives, whether because of or in spite of external conditions, imparting the hope that we can do the same.
The second of today’s featured works is just such an evergreen reminder, a lush fir in miniature, capturing the same blue of sky and storm and holding it fast amid silvered light. From its description in the Pins Gallery:
Snow-Wreathed Fir Tree Pin
A snow-wreathed fir stands strong in the blue of a winter’s twilight. Wings summons the spirits of tree and storm in this diminutive pin, a tree for the holidays adance beneath the falling flakes. Cut freehand from sterling silver, the little fir’s boughs are garlanded with chased symbols of a sun setting beneath the clouds. Flowering snowflakes are scattered across its branches, three hand-stamped and two formed of overlaid conchas, tiny repoussé sterling silver starbursts fanned out in crystalline form. In winter holiday tradition, a hand-stamped star twinkles from the treetop. Tree stands 1-1/2″ high by 1-3/8″ across at the widest point; cabochon is 1/8″ across (dimensions approximate).
Sterling silver; lapis lazuli
$325 + shipping, handling, and insurance
The fir, like the spruce, the cedar, the stately pin and fat rich piñon, all share space here at this lower elevation with the sage and chamisa. The smaller cousins thrive year-round, too, but for too long they all have been caught in drought’s stasis, waiting for the water that never comes.
This is a world where winter can last six months and more — where the cold season is what gives life to the land throughout the year. It is a world that waits each year for the snow, for the days of deep cold and low light to give birth to the world anew.
The snow will arrive in a few hours. For the rest, this is a world no longer waiting.
~ Aji
All content, including photos and text, are copyright Wings and Aji, 2019; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.
