"Portrait of a wee Winterqueen"
a picture by the Picsees
Every year when the season starts to turn and the cold comes around, the winterqueens and winterkings travel from their homes in the faerie realms to this world. And all along the way they collect wee sticks and twigs which they bundle up and bind together with bits of rag and magic, making what is known as flower crowns.
And then, as the frost starts to crawl across the land, they pick the last of the wild flowers before they wither away and weave them all into their crowns. And as the icy wind blows the last leaves from the trees, they pick them up and tuck them into their crowns as well. They do this with all the foliage, flowers and wee fruits and berries that can't survive the bitter cold winter, and then, when their crowns are filled with the leavings of a summer gone...they all disappear.
No one knows exactly where they go, but it is said that they burrow deep, deep underground where no one will bother them, not even winter itself. And down there in their snugly dug hollows they'll sleep until the season turns once more, all the while dreaming the most vivid dreams of summer time and sunshine...so vivid in fact that a few rays of summer sun will seep through their dreams and into their crowns which keeps all the wee plants growing throughout.
And then, when the days start to get warm again they will wake and make their way out of their winter hideaways and return to the place where each plant in their crowns was found, where they'll hang a single wee leaf on every tree and plant a wee flower bud wherever they bloomed before. And when they've returned every wee plant to the land, they too return to theirs until the next year.
No one really knows whether or not the trees would still turn green if that first little leaf were not returned by the winterkings and winterqueens. And who could tell if the countryside would still be filled with colour if they didn't take care of those wee wild flowers. Either way...whenever we see those majestic green trees or fields of flowers dancing in breeze, we like to think they all made it there because someone, somewhere, dreamt of summertime.