In my mental grove, listening to the creek. I found myself drawn along the stream, moving quickly beside it, leaping to the other side and continuing forward into a bright, snowy field. Large hills of glittering snow surround me, that creek still trickling along in the distance. The image of a red fox’s face fills my vision and then I see it, running swiftly through the snow. A raven cries overhead and follows it from the air, and I follow too, moving as fast as I can. I hurry down a hill, seeing the creature getting further away, following it’s tiny prints in the deep snow. Then another joins the chase, a female, who quickly matches pace with the other.
As I push harder to close the distance I find myself changing. I am heavier, with bear paws and thick fur to shield from the cold. The day becomes night and I am lurching through deeper and deeper snow towards the foxes that I can no longer see. I am drowning in the mounds of snow, flailing and moving slower and slower until I know I have lost them. Then I am at a tree beside that creek. It is a precarious spot to rest, the base of the tree solid but slippery. I feel as if I must maintain a footing to avoid falling into the icy water. I called out to Belenus to raise the sun swiftly, settled into the silence of the winter night, and curled up.
The scent of burning wood filled my nose, made my eyes itch, and it stirred me to wake.
I am freshly stirred from this vision and wanted to record it immediately.