Anne Louise Averyさんのイラストまとめ

19th Day of Advent. Enontekiö, Lapland. An old & noble gentleman, wrapped in reindeer fur, is travelling in his reahka to see an old & noble friend, a Hare, who lives in Heahttá. Together they talk of times gone & times to come, as the Northern Lights flicker in the night sky.

16th Day of Advent. The Mouse is making Smoking Bishop for the Old Fox. She roasts Seville oranges until black-burnt & simmers them with a whole bottle of Port & starry cloves & pawfuls of brown sugar. Served in silver cups from a Mitre-shaped punch bowl. How fine! says the Fox.

@jacquidixon #SmallStoryAdventCalendar #DayFifteen

15th Day of Advent. Dawn & a storm's been raging all night. Waves thrashing against Smeaton's Pier, but it's her birthday, so she walks to the end. Suddenly, in the troubled light, strange singing, high & holy, from down in the salt-green depths. Seals blessing one of their own.

14th Day of Advent. Heavy snow & Hare missed her mother desperately, so she brought out her old button tin & laid the button-jewels in patterns across the kitchen table. Pearl, ceramic, gilt, glass & plastic, enamelled, shanked, roped & fisheye, in every colour, shape & size.

A magisterial egret, snow falling silently in the darkness
Ohara Koson (1877-1945)
1910
@rijksmuseum

13th Day of Advent. The Fox was called out to a cottage in the hamlet. One of the mother mice there was inconsolable. Frightened for her children. He tucked her into bed, made the little mice chocolate & told them all a story about courage, how it hardens & blazes under duress.

11th Day of Advent. Edging the forest of Fontainebleau, Rosa Bonheur's tower bedroom is flooded with winter light. Gilt bird cages, easels, paints, typewriter, dark velvet bed, animals below, electric lights illuminating the darkness. O I have made the forest my temple, she says

10th Day of Advent. Exhausted by falsehoods, the Fox & the Girl walk deep into the birch woods for twigs to gild. How can they lie so much, she asks. Because they've lost their souls, he says. Where? Sold 'em. For money, for vanity, for power, for hurt. Oh, she says. Oh.

7th Day of Advent. A Snow Goose is flying over the Fens, under a sky fretted with winter stars. She traces the water lines & frost ways & hedge tracks, plotting by steeple & manor & field, until she reaches the cottage & the Girl, half-orphaned & in need of a wise friend.