This time of year, a never ending cycle of storms sweeps down from the mountains burying the foothills in a frozen tomb. The ice cold essence seeps into your aching bones and the chill doesn’t thaw until late spring.

Despite the season’s harshness, the artist is lured into an attempt to capture the mysterious poetry evoked by such an austere landscape. In defiance of the somber setting, a palette of unexpected hues is required to accomplish the task.

Interred in eternal snow, a woodland valley is hauntingly diffused with the spirit of winter. Jutting out of the ground, dark menhirs are scattered across the meadow, making the composition’s structure seem monumental.

The deserted cabin is evidence of a recurring saga about the struggle between this area’s inhabitants and the environment. A phantom peak, pyramidal in shape, complements the strict geometry of the shelter.

The faltering shack is gradually being reclaimed by the land so its ragged edges melt into the surrounding hillside. It’s sloped roofing still bears a snowy load and horizontal details are scratched into the dressed timber.

An irregular border of branches is glistening with wet flakes while providing a necessary counter-balance with the other elements. The different pieces fitting together to create a swirl of interlocking shapes.

The constellation of pine tree pillars forms a natural gateway to the silvery heavens above. During this solstice dawn, a dark rift in the clouds suggests a portal to the very heart of an infinite universe.

The place is often overlooked by some who boldly march towards tomorrow. For me, it’s sacred ground where remnants of our predecessors are preserved, a memory of yesterday we should never forget.