The Solace of the Forest

One year, winter arrived early
on the back of a northern nanny*,
snow-blasting the landscape
with a pillow-fight of ice and flakes.

Last spring’s empty nests were flung
by the bitter wind, some landing
among corpses of fallen trees,
steadfast giants brought to their knees.

In the eerie half-light of the forest,
frightened animals looked for solace
and found it in a clearing: the promise
of quiet and a sky as pure as ice.

Kim M. Russell, 4th November 2020

brown and white fox on snow covered ground during daytime

My response to Poets and Storytellers United Weekly Scribblings #44: Eye of the Hurricane

Rommy is our host this Wednesday with the idiom ’eye of the hurricane’. She has given us two definitions and would like us to craft our words around either literal or figurative meaning.

*A northern nanny is a colloquial name for a cold hail and windstorm coming from the north.

Image by Aaron Huber on Unsplash

31 thoughts on “The Solace of the Forest

    1. Thank you, Ron! Hope you’re holding up during the long wait for results of the election – and that you have a safe place to hide in case of an afterstorm.

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  1. We’re probably several weeks away from a storm that intense (thank goodness) though the winds have been showing off, even without the snow.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. We don’t get hurricanes over here but we had some very high gales not so long ago, when we lost power. It’s the snowy ones I fear, in case we get snowed in.

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  2. Just beautiful I love “with a pillow-fight of ice and flakes.” and how “nests were flung among corpses of fallen trees” and the solace the animals found “the promise of quiet and a sky as pure as ice” Great poem

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I’ve experienced the storms you’ve described so eloquently, but never heard them called nanny’s. I think we call them nor’easters. I always enjoy your word magic.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: you, my dearest Kim, are the queen of heart-touching and brain-feeding descriptions. I can see the tree corpses, in the second stanza, their knees cracking under the weight of winter and time. I can feel that final exhale in the closing stanza, that final breath of relief that comes when a creature accepts that nature won’t be denied.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Your weather is so much more extreme than ours, Cara, especially the heat. Our winters have become milder and last year we saw only a flutter of snow. I was grateful for summer this year, though, which coincided with lockdown.

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