By Joanne Aartman

The winter earth summons all to reflect. As birds move south, and with them their chats and songs, the cycle of hibernation and rejuvenation commences. A deep reflection on what has happened and how everything culminated in this moment commences. 

Wolf returns to landscapes he has always known because the land directs his memory, and codes embedded in DNA dictate his path. From far north where fire sits beneath fields of snow and rainbow-colored pools boil, bison and elk succumb to Wolf’s attack. He feasts all spring and summer, moving across vast groves of trees and fields of wildflowers as yellow as the sun and as pink as the evening sky. Then, he crosses steep mountain ranges to ones of rounder peaks. 

Each fold woven into his coat, layered on top of others, forms a warm cover and contains the collective occurrences of Wolf’s existence. Memories insulate and aid him through the challenges of each day. 

Every time his paws touch the land, Wolf inscribes a scent. Nerve points along his paw pads receive information from the soil while simultaneously leaving a mark to communicate with others who migrate across the terrain. The aroma filters through tree roots, granulated soil minerals, and spring pollen, thereby residing in the air.

Every imprint on the land matters in the cycles of seasons. Years of floods, drought, high heat, cooler summers. Births and deaths. Victories and defeats. All living beings sway with fluid realities. 

In the darkest, quietest corners, Wolf makes space for more life. He slows down in the cold as all life must. Idleness peels away layers of modern life’s stressors—fences, highways, guns—the barriers that attempt to hinder him. 

Winter’s reflection commands a trust in nature and a desire to exist inside her womb. To rely on a wisdom outside any one being’s control. 

The great winter break provides an opportunity to fortify a soul, to build towers of strength needed to carry on. Lay down with a thick winter cover, let senses pause, and feel the chill of change upon the earth. What comes next is another cycle that may bring bleakness, battles, roaming, or joy. But it will all be temporary. Each season builds on other seasons, which in turn creates life. 

Rest without closing eyes on the snow pillow. For the battle to survive never ends.

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Joann Aartman holds an MFA in Creative Nonfiction from the Institute of American Indian Arts. She is working on a memoir of her nine years as a globe trekker. Her stories center on encounters with land temples and nature. She lives in California.