The Seine at Bennecourt, Winter – Claude Monet, 1893
It was December – a bright frozen day in the early morning.*
Snowflakes settle into a white field that slowly turns to gold as the sun rises above the horizon. Lost to each other, no longer free.
Trees blackened by winter’s bite reach up like charred spider webs. Searching for spring or perhaps waiting for the birds to return. Arms empty and twisted, they wait for the wind to give voice to pained moans.
Off in the distance where the pine trees live, soft pings of icicle wind chimes travel through the forest and into the field. Those long fallen snowflakes listen, wishing they could fly again.
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* Eudora Welty, from A Worn Path.
Special Note: The opening quote was a writing prompt from my writer’s group last week. It’s amazing what can come of a single quotation and 15 minutes of writing time.
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c.b.w. 2015
C.B. Wentworth 
I got to see that painting in person a couple months ago when one of our local art museums had several of Monet’s pieces!
And writing prompts are fantastic. I’ve gotten more than a few gems from prompts over the years myself.
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Ooo, I’m jealous! Monet’s work is so much better in person. 🙂
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I adore Monet and have seen many exhibitions of his work…never tire of them. Your story does the painting justice and is beautiful.
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He is easily one of my favorite artists. Last time I was at the National Gallery in London I spent an enormous amount of time just sitting with his work. It just pulls you in. 🙂
I actually found the image after I wrote the piece. As I was writing, I had an picture in my head and this particular work of Monet was the closest to that image!
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Beautiful!!
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Thanks! 🙂
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That was very poetic while still being prose. Very nice!
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Thank you! 🙂
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Earworm time!
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