Artio

Ice melts in cascading waterfalls from jagged mountain peaks, pouring into rivers roaring white to the cold sea. Straightening slowly, like aged men, trees and fauna of the underbrush, now free of snow-weight, reach for the sun. It is spring; the world awakens from darkness and death to grow green again. Her hibernation ends. Coat wet with fresh rain, Artio, Goddess-Bear, roars into the chill morning air. She is guardian of the cycle. Not the passage of time, but the balance of things. There is no spring without winter, no death without life, no darkness without light, no goodness without e...