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Winter is a sure thing, and yet, endlessly mysterious; a white vista, brighter than the moon at times, an impregnable, crepuscular void at others. Ice coat the land in impossibly pristine, yet eternally indifferent crystal glass. Winter night is not unlike death. Winter dawn (especially after the Solstice, when the days grow longer) is not unlike birth.
In this piece, I wanted to capture the brightest components of winter- a chilly, blindingly bright December or January afternoon, whilst maintaining an undercurrent of frigid, saturated earth beneath it all. It is the most physically demanding time of year for nearly all life forms, and yet, its beauty and radiance are undeniable.