On a cold winter's afternoon in Sedona Arizona surrounded by towering red rocks and fragrant green junipers, I lay under a canopy of overlapping branches in a small clearing on the dusty red earth. Overhead, beyond the lace of branches above me is the great expanse of clear blue sky. Birds and small animals are rustling and making tiny sounds all around me. They come to greet me everyday for the nuts and fruit that I bring them. We have become "friends" these little creatures and I, and they gather close around me even brushing up against my legs or feet in their eagerness for the treats. As I lay there drifting in the peaceful ambiance I also feel a sense of expectancy. A sense that there is so much magic swirling around in the air that I can almost see it in bright undulating waves. I sit in quiet anticipation as the red earth hums softly and cradles me. I know that something out of the ordinary is about to happen. It feels like some kind of joyous tingle running all over my skin. I open my eyes to try to see what the magic is that is blowing in and all of a sudden flakes of crystaline snow begin to dance and fly all around me. I look up in amazement into a still blue, cloud-free sky. Snow is falling from out of the clear blue, and invisible rain is freezing into flakes. Winter's magic spun out of a dry and still blue.
Causes Lian Frost Supports
Humane Society, ASPCA, Greenpeace