SnowBloom, an Opera

Yesterday we went to Halifax along Highway One Oh One.

There was still some snow in the air as we navigated our way through the Winter Landscape.

 

 I delight in the Breugel colours of Winter scenes such as this 

 

As we drove along we saw Winter Villages nestled in the snow,

 sheltered by the noble tree windbreaks, unaware of the stories that unfold around them. 

 

One such story is told by the Evangeline Express now retired, as she sits on a defunct track,

her snowy head full of tales she would unfold for those who might listen.

 

One such Legend happened deep beyond The Forest's Edge.

 

Deeper still past Trees Snowladen

 

In a country so Snowswept, that no human ever set foot in it. Herein lays lore as epic as any opera.

 

Herein lays the Legend of The Snow King, the largest Spruce in Nova Scotia,

 The Snow King surrounded by his Courtiers

 

In a more sheltered part of the Forest lived Snowbloom, the King's most precious queen

who was attended to by trees that blocked the cruel wind, Sisters that surrounded her with such adoration and Love,  Cherished by all who saw her for her delicate beauty and grace.

 

All Around, It was a Silver World Bedazzled by Beauteous Bounty

 

And No Passerby could know, as Highway Sentinels watched over the Royalty they guarded.

 

But one day the Skies Grew Black and Looking Up the Hill, one could see that Trouble was Brewing.

 

 An Ogre Dance was Unfolding

And Little Snowbloom was no longer her Snowrobed Self.

Colder than she'd ever been, she now had become quite Vertebraeic,

 

As her Courtiers grew close, they witnessed the Ascension of the Dying Queen,

the graceful Spruce Soul that grew within her turned to a Golden Flame

 

and saw it rise to the highest heights.

 

Once her Spruce Soul had risen, The Queen's Attendants Carried Her Off

 

And the Winter Ravaged Forest Grieved for it loved her so,

 the Snow King grown old and hoary, bowed in his Despair, Humbled by his Loss

 

And for a Moment, only a moment, mind you, They all became Deciduous of a Sudden,

in their vast feeling of Oneness for her Beauty and Grace, they became a million Snowblooms

 

And so it is written in Treescript for all who can read it

just as Evangeline Express has told it to you here today

 

So whenever you find yourself on The Road to Halifax

 

Passing through it's many Rock Cuts

 

 Where Mt. Uniacke Looms

 

 Watch for those Modern Primitive Ogres that are barely hidden in the landscape

For one never knows...

 

 And the Winter Opera sings in Chorus:

 

One Can Never Know The Beauteous Snowbloom

Without Knowing her Spruce Soul Heart.

Tra-La-La  La-La

 

One Can Never Love So Deeply Without Becoming

 One With That Which We Love.

Tra-La,  La-La,  La-La!