AI Image: Snow falling in pine forest. 

Secrets of the Snow Spirits 

The Nordic cross-country ski club made a winter pilgrimage to the Adirondacks, finding solace in the snow. Every year, they escaped to worship nature’s snowy beauty.     

    But the snow spirits had cast a curse upon the region. The surrounding mountains, valleys, and forests were starved of snow. Fewer trails boasted a snow base deep enough to bury the jutting roots and hide the brown patches.

    The Nordics shared memories of swishing through the hard-packed snow glistening in the sunshine. They longed to hear the crunch, crunch of the snow again. The youngest among them shivered, imagining the bracing, frigid air welcoming them.

    Despite the bleak, sporadic snow forecast, the Nordics continued their traditional journey north. As was their custom, each skier brought gifts to honor the snow spirits. Presents including a rare poem written by Jack Frost, lush green velvet cloaks, a silver flask of aged whiskey, and an ice-blue sapphire tiara. They hoped these treasures, so rich and rare, would impress the spirits.

    Still, not a single snowflake fell.   

    Disappointed, the skiers shunned the spirits and instead put their faith in superstitions to bring snow. The younger snow spirits giggled as they watched each person place a spoon under the bed pillow. 

    But the elder spirits lashed out, unamused. “It’s absurd. Humans also believe wearing their pajamas to bed inside out will make it snow … or backwards and inside out.”

    The Nordics decided they must work together to repair their relationship with the divine deities. If they failed, they feared the snow drought curse would last forever.

    How could they show the spirits how much they loved a snowy winter wonderland?

    A thank-you party!

    As the spirits watched from above, each Nordic presented their gift. The club’s ski instructor recited his poem about snowflakes. Each stanza sang with the same praise he shared with skiers under his tutelage.

    Next, the musician played a bold, bright melody on his flugelhorn. He had mastered the fast tempo and performed fearlessly with speed and grace, just as he did while skate-skiing.

    The humble llama farmer knitted fuzzy honey-colored scarves from spun wool. She wove warmth and comfort into the scarves, wrapping the spirits in her loving touch and kind words.

    In the spirit of warming the icy hearts of the spirits, others chopped a cord of wood and built a roaring fire ablaze in blue and orange. The wood crackled and popped. The ski-house sommelier gave all a generous pour of vintage homemade vino to fete the spirits. Her heartfelt toast was as lively and robust as the wine itself.

    The Nordic leader who loved to cook served up an Italian feast. He sacrificed his time on the trails to cook for his friends and the spirits. Every course included his signature ingredient of fresh, sweet garlic. Chopped garlic topped the bruschetta. Roasted bulbs drenched in olive oil spread on crusty bread. Tomato garlic sauce served over a swirl of steaming pasta. The sweet aroma of garlic lingered and wafted into the woods, making for sweet dreams. 

    All slept well after the dinner and festivities, and they dreamed of waking up to a winter wonderland. The next morning, their dreams had come true. Rejoice!

The sky blushed pink-orange, and the land beamed with six inches of snow.

     Tree branches wore a brand-new winter coat. Birdhouses donned fluffy top hats. Paw prints zig-zagged across the landscape in this wildlife walkway. The woodland welcome committee had already arrived—a drilling woodpecker, a screeching hawk, and a jeering blue jay. 

    The Nordics ventured into the endless winter beauty. Every kilometer of trail beckoned them. They traversed the hills together before heading in different directions. Curious skiers stopped to study the terrain, animal tracks, and tree bark. While some raced across the frozen pond, others circled around it. A few shed their skis and slip-slid-walked across the solid ice.

    The Nordics never worried about snow droughts, for the Snow Spirits rewarded those who shared their talents. Maybe, the snow spirits loved garlic too.