You wake up in the room of a small, rustic log cabin.
The embers from last night's fire are still faintly glowing in the hearth of the woodstove.
A muffled hush from the landscape outside presses up against and permeates the place.
You throw off your covers and walk over the cold floorboards to look outside. The frost overnight has etched patterns of crystals inside the windowpane.
A thick blanket of snow covers the landscape, creating a magical stark white dreamscape full of bizarre shapes and forms which glint in places under the bright arctic sun.
You put on layers of warm clothes, a soft scarf, gloves and thick boots.
You have to push the front door open firmly because snowdrifts have heaped up against it.
When you go out, it takes your eyes several moments to adjust to the white world outside.
As you walk, the crackle of your footsteps breaks the silence.
You pass a large stack of neatly chopped wood.
In the distance, snow-streaked stone peaks rise deep purple and jagged into the luminous blue sky.
You follow a path that goes through the forest.
Here and there you see the tracks that birds and animals have left in the snow.
The air is crisp with a slight fragrance of pine resin from the trees, and the lingering scent from last night's fire — your breath trails after you in pale puffs of smoke.
The drifts have banked up on either side of your way. The weight of the snow is bending the branches of the fir trees into unnatural angles, almost forming a snow tunnel over your head. Occasionally here, the snow underneath your feet is hollow and collapses.
The snow festoons last season's wildflowers like puffy marshmallows.
As the sun warms the snow, mini avalanches fall from the branches. In their wake, feathery crystals float and sparkle around you in the still air.
The path ends at a clearing. At first, you don't notice the deer on the edge of it — a buck with a massive set of antlers, but the stag has seen you. He turns away, flings up his white tail and glides noiselessly away into the forest.
The sun is just above the treeline, and the trees now cast a procession of stark shadows across your trail back to the log cabin.
A raven lands on the top of a tree nearby. His kaws echo across the treetops.
Now you are shivering in your coat. The bitter cold air is beginning to chill your fingertips.
You reach the log cabin.
When you get back inside, blue dusk has started to fill the room. Someone has added logs and relit the fire.
The tranquillity of the walk in the snow outside has been relaxing. The glow and warmth of the woodstove are inviting. You decide to make some tea and relax by the fire.
〰️ Clara 〰️
I am bringing my favourite outside experiences and imaginings to create visualizations that encourage peace and relaxation.