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Livia’s mind is at rest, at complete peace. She feels her breath enter through her nose, cold and clear, then fill her lungs as her chest expands to accommodate the air. There is strength gathering in her lower belly with every breath she takes. It glows warm and burns away the cold like a protective aura. Her feet still feel warm in her boots and the same glowing embers of strength gather in the centre of the soles of her feet where they yearn to be connected to the earth. Her arms open wide, then gather together just below the ball of strength in her belly. They lift up the energy along her body, then turn around when they are level with her sternum so instead they push down the uproar of strength as she breathes out.
She opens her eyes.
Feeling steeled and ready she takes hold of the bottom edge of her shirt and pulls it off over her head. Carelessly she drops it on the tree stump next to her. With practiced movements she opens up the long laces of her high boots until her feet are freed and touch the hard, frozen ground. There are sharp edges touching the soles of her feet but she can feel the frost retreat underneath her warmth. It is a relief to connect with the soil when her energy is so close to the surface. A heady rush of release and tension results from the contact, just like her heat struggles with the ice cold.
Finally she takes off her trousers as well and she stands there for a moment and regains her focus as she takes in her surroundings. The trees around her are covered in white frost, making them whiter than if they were laden with snow. All that lies on the path she is about to take, the leaves and needles, pieces of bark and singular sprigs of small bushes, is framed and bejewelled by ice crystals. As her bare feet touch nature’s work of art, she hears the shattering of a myriad of crystals with each step, no matter how softly she places them.
After only a short distance, the white ice gives way to the dark grey of smoothed out rocks and pebbles that line the water’s edge. Where the waves lick up towards the shore, it leaves some stones shining in a darker black while others are dressed in a coat of icy diamonds. Focusing on the uneven ground Livia approaches the water until it reaches her toes with every other wave. She raises her head and looks out over the dark water towards the opposite shore that is likewise protected by frozen trees. Somewhere behind the hills the sun vanished several hours ago, but the moon has taken her place, admiring its angelic complexion in the water’s mirror.
As she looks up, Livia takes one last deep breath that she uses to fuel her warmth and as she breathes out, she walks into the cold with steady steps. The water laps at her knees and thighs as she walks onwards unerringly as her slowly numbing feet find purchase on cold, smooth rocks. When she is submerged up to her hips, she stops and joins her hands just below her belly once more to gather her strength, help her visualize the warmth she possesses and push away the cold that makes her breath accelerate and escape her lips in icy clouds. She reaches up with outstretched arms and touches her hands into a spearhead over her head, then bends her knees and jumps in a graceful arch, diving head first into the water’s obsidian depths.
Her powerful legs push her forwards as her arms guide her direction. Her lungs start to burn as her skin catches fire from the frigid water, but her core is not subdued. When she emerges from the waves, big gulps of air fill her lungs and shivers run down her frame. She gasps and pants as if she just did a full on sprint. Cold hands push her forwards and water rushes past her, trying to claim every bit of warmth she has to offer, but she perseveres. Gradually she feels the depths taking more of her heat, her fingers and toes slowly succumbing, but at the same time her frantic breathing slows as she regains control. In a few forceful strokes, she is back on shore, her feet touching the rocks below, and she stands. As droplets run down her skin, goosebumps follow and she starts shivering. She clenches her teeth, tenses her core and thighs and retraces her steps to where she left her clothes and a towel.
Though before she starts drying off, she hugs her own chest tightly, getting rid of as much water as possible trapped in the fabric of her bindings, then gently moves the towel down her body so as to not irritate her burning red skin as it soaks up the wetness. Neither her linen shirt nor her trousers do much in restoring warmth to her but her focus on the diminished fountain of energy in her lower belly is unbroken and it fuels her, keeping the shivers to a minimum, as she puts her boots onto her numb feet. She does not bother tying the laces but shrugs on her warm winter cloak which blocks out the wind and allows her to take deep, slow breaths again. Completely covered in indigo blue wool she sits down on the tree stump and pulls the fabric more tightly around her. With but a few calm, deliberate breaths, the warmth from her core spreads slowly back into her limbs and makes her fingers and toes prickle with returned life. And at the same time she continues looking out over the dark expense of the water, smooth as a mirror, and across to the trees and their temporarily lifeless state, much like her hands.
As she sits there, just breathing and existing, she gently puts the towel to her hair which she braided in a crown around her head and presses the water out to give her scalp back some warmth. With her hood pulled over head, the grey fur framing her face, she stares up at the stars and lets peace enter her soul.