The new year has come, dear reader, and one wish I made on the first sunrise was that I might make the best remedy I can for Lorenz. I have a fine start, and I have it in mind to add the red rose at the Well of the Green Sister too. But it’s so odd… I’ve gone to check nearly every day, but the rose still has not bloomed. Perhaps because it was born of some unknown enchantment, it does not follow the pace of regular roses. It certainly doesn’t seem affected by snow in the same way. It reminded me very much of a faery tale I was reading the other day, with a beast and an enchanted castle, and a garden all in bloom even in winter. Roses play an important role in that story, and it had a sweet ending. I read it to my fox friend, Flame, as we sat by the fire. He lay quietly on the rug by my feet, and it seemed as though he were listening to my words, for whenever I stopped to take a sip of tea, he would perk his head up as if to say, “Don’t stop there. You haven’t finished yet.” It made me smile.
The two of us have been spending quite a bit of time together in the forest. Alexander and I are to meet in a week or two, to study old Olkarian in the library and perhaps examine more of the things at the Well of the Green Sister. But in the meantime, I’ve been following Flame through the snow beneath the trees, finding new places and visiting old favorites. On one day he led me to a spot along the river, where the water had frozen through. Very carefully, I looked down into the cracked surface, all in shades of white, black, and deep teal blue. It somehow felt serious and serene, and as I drew an Impression I reflected on the stillness of the moment.
Another day, we went to the grove of glowing mushrooms, and since it was rather foggy and gray, I could see both the little toadstools and Flame glowing in that magical green fashion they do. Snowflakes began to fall, and as they did, some caught the light from the glow. They sparkled and glistened in their descent.
Now, as I gaze through the window sipping a cup of hot tea with cinnamon and orange, I can see Flame playing outside with some bright red cardinals. The little birds keep hopping around him, and he won’t stop jumping head first into the deep snow. Goodness, he’ll be such a mess when he comes inside; I’m going to have to clean the floor again.
Flame’s a silly creature, but I love him so. I feel lucky that the forest brought us together. Greenwood has a funny way of doing that, making things happen and revealing little bits of itself. I’ve lived here long enough to know that it has many sides to its character. Sometimes it’s breathtaking and serious, while others it’s wild and carefree. I think that’s something about the forest I’d like to add to the remedy. For often the beauty of the forest is in its surprises, the unexpected moments it gives, and the magical creatures who call it home.