Edelweiss Valley

 
Written by Mitzi Danielson-Kaslik |
Published on:

Pure shards of mountainous rock backed and surrounded the landscape with delicate white snow thick and fresh atop the tall pointed peaks; enamel upon broken teeth as old as time itself. Beneath the peaks, the snow wandered and pattered its way down towards the valley, running in great long rivers, fading the closer they came; huge platinum ore veins racing through the hard-jagged rock. Behind, a clear duck egg blue sky shone with the brilliant luminance of a thousand candles, though no sun could be seen, beautiful rays of light departed the skies and danced and dallied against the many cabins in the valley beneath; illuminating all in their path as a gift from Heaven above, providing beams of pure deafening warmth to the valley. 

 

The cabins themselves were small in thick wood with great sloping rooves with huge tall peaks which appeared not unlike the glass mountains behind. A light wash of ivory snow sprinkled itself at the very crests of the cabins as if icing sugar on a sponge. The cabin doors were painted in bright shades of red and blue and green with little knobs in pretty metals and matchings animal knockers with huge heavy rings. Small steps at the foot of the door helped to raise the cabin out of the long lush green grass and clean bright frost which carpeted it in a blanket of winter. It was melting now. Spring had arrived as a shining beacon of hope; a gift from the heavens, bringing new life and a renewal of faith and trust in the majesty of the glacial paradise surrounding.

 

All the cabins marked the ending of one of the hundreds of tiny pathways entrenched in the thin frost. The paths were lined with shoots and sprouts of small spring wild flowers in beautiful pastel shades of blushing pink, periwinkle blue and delicate scarlet. One small flower caught the eye; in brightest white with clean cut starlight metals and a fiery yellow center of pollen. It seemed to be a source of its own unearthly luminance glinting in the early morning dew which lay heavily upon the leaves and petals and lingered thickly in the crisp chilled fresh air. The flower was love. The flower was truth. The flower was purity – a chance at eternal peace. It showed the path for the valley.

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Author: Mitzi Danielson-Kaslik
I’m 15 and Interested in history and English. I dream of being an author in the future.

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