“The Swing” Original Art for $959

She was like the forest. She changed with the seasons.

In the spring her skin was soft and pink, like the new flowers on the mountainside. Her eyes were as pale green as the young sprouts on the forest floor. Her hair was yellow like the sun. Her voice was sweet and melodic.

In the summer her voice was strong and joyous. Her skin was tanned with warmth. Her eyes were hazy blue. Her hair was like dry grass.

In the autumn her hair was red. Her voice was crisp and clear. Her skin was dry and pale. Her eyes were clear blue.

In the winter her eyes were dark as the sunless sky. Her skin was gray and cold. Her voice was icy and tired. Her hair was long and white.

Each midwinter she wrapped herself in her hair and slept. In the spring she awoke and began her life of seasons all over.

As did the forest.

She had lived for centuries. Perhaps longer. She didn’t know, for she didn’t keep up with such things. Much like the forest.

She wandered the hills and streams, moving with the wind, the sun, and the animals. For centuries, or longer.