Capturing the vitality of an animal requires considering their behavior and drive. Some haunt the shadows and others rush boldly into the light. In this series I loved exploring these different attitudes and learning more about each animal.
Researching and learning might be my favorite part of the process.
Whisperbloom
At the fall of dusk, she thunders through the woods. The night blooming flowers bare their petals toward her steps and weave an aromatic path through the trees. The stars begin their twinkle as she whispers “Goodnight” to the sun.
Hone Claws
Pulse quickens and breath catches. A pause. A quick calculating moment to determine, to decide, to act. The leaves against skin tickle as they sway back to their natural space, having nudged them not a second ago. As though snapping back into place it would be like I was never there - a phantom. Ears twitch to the sound - a scuttling ahead. I focus on that fear and panic as I stand prone - taut muscles aching to release. Heartbeats later I launch - pushing with everything I have. Darting towards the movement ahead - every step honing skills and sharpening what instinct gave me.
Sap Sipper
Crisp air and crisper leaves. The satisfying crunching underfoot. The fading heat and summer salt mingling with the scent of ripe fruit and pine. A time of restlessness, constant moving and preparing and anticipation - waiting for the first snow. A rustle of leaves gets the heart racing - ears perked - muscles tensed and ready to bolt. With no moon in the sky the forest is a darker black - the few remaining leaves hiding even starlight.
Secret Keeper
If there is a hidden treasure — he will find it.
Dusk Dance
Seeking the moving winds after the static air of winter. It’s cold chill that settles in around us. With spring comes a hustle - a dance. Making ready for the warm sun again. Stirring something deep inside - a purr to emerge and be reforged after so long in the slumber of wintergreen stillness.
Ptarmigan
Biting, howling winds race up the slope.
The quiet of snow, its silent breath. Like it is waiting, still, for spring. To once again rush violent against the stone of the mountain. Winter brings a pause. A still moment where even water cannot flow. Gravity pulls, but cannot take hold. Snow drifts around - its taunting weightlessness, floating up before settling slowly down, but it cannot rush to the ocean - not yet.
Tailwind
We seek the moving winds after the static air of winter. It’s cold chill that settles in around us. With spring comes a hustle - a dance. Making ready for the warm sun again. Stirring something deep inside - a purr to emerge and be reforged after so long in the slumber of wintergreen stillness.