My heart dreams at Christmastime.
The sentry of nutcrackers on my mantel comes to life: tiny, laconic, but otherwise faithful Peabody; standoffish but good-hearted Meriwether; Ambrose, tall, young, new to the house and quite unsure of himself, but all good intentions and bright intellect; Old General, from the times of my mother's childhood, Andy Williams and Christmas parties, stout and sure and of good sense, as in his youth; and then Nutcracker. Closest to my heart. I received him in the December of my eighth year. Taller and younger than Old General, shorter and older than Ambrose, he is brave and kind-hearted and will give anything for the good of his friends. He is wonderful, and he is mine.
In my mind, I am an explorer of the Endless Snow, walking among hills and across rippling gray lakes in snowshoes and parkas and woolen scarves, blowing clouds of breath up into the air, waking snow-swans and sables and great cetaceans from the deep.
Maria and the Nutcracker
Current Music: Walking in the Air - Peter Auty