Saturday, December 17, 2016


Photo copyright Aji, 2016; all rights reserved.

On this day, when the little winter is become large and full and deep, blizzard winds that cut like elemental razors and blowing snow that blinds eyes and steals breath for its own, The Old Man’s presence, white dusting on his wrinkled face as he calls the light, seems like its own gift.

I like to think that he works now in tandem with the spirit of another elder, one who once was like us but now more resembles him: an elemental spirit who stands upon the summit and commands the storm, who raises his hands above his head, arms open to embrace the world by way of the winter light.

All content, including photos and text, are copyright Aji, 2016; all rights reserved. Nothing herein may used or reproduced in any form without the express written permission of the owner.

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