Tundra
All the lights of Rekyjavik cannot disguise the thorough darkness of these winter nights. We ride north on our journey as if pulled into the dark cold, the relentless wind on the barrens, a sky fearfully thick with stars. Our horses plod underneath us like their bones have been stacked and loosely wrapped for shipment. Their hooves slap the frozen ground in conjuring beats and our bodies lean this way and that, keeping rhythm with the primordial heart. An expanse wider than the sea opens and auroras stream liquid jewels across the sky. Colors brighter than we have ever seen mingle and swirl, pulse, jostle the stars.
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Author's Note
A version of this appeared in Doorknobs and BodyPaint a few years ago.
Happy Valentine's Day everyone!
Other stories by Dianne McKnight-Warren
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Quite evocative, Dianne.
"We ride north on our journey as if pulled into the dark cold, the relentless wind on the barrens, a sky fearfully thick with stars."
The imagery, compresses, pulls in the reader, and then opens: "swirl, pulse, jostle". I like it.
"Our horses plod underneath us like their bones have been stacked and loosely wrapped for shipment."
Mmm--sounds like a sentiment from some millennium-old saga, the physiology of the aching cold tundra. This effective, concise evocation of the dread of deadly cold reminds me of Zamyatin's "The Cave".
Keep up the good work!
"a sky fearfully thick with stars. Our horses plod underneath us like their bones have been stacked and loosely wrapped for shipment. "
Good stuff happening here!
gorgeous images *
Specific and lyrical at once, perfect melding of night, cold, stars and the beating "primordial heart."
Thank you Erika, Sam, Strannikov, Darryl, Beate, and David! I appreciate your time and attention.