These photos are of dawn, today, in the Berkshires, but my walk came later, at dusk, when the night air turned sharply cold and light rain dropped into snow.

After a day indoors, this cold biting my cheeks, this fresh air into my lungs is a balm.

Spring in the mountains is slow to arrive.

Indoors, we dance the dance of the sacred feminine. We make a ferocious fire with our dancing.

All photos and text copyright Kelly DuMar 2017