Shackled in ice, the river yet flows. In the absence of sun its vitality keeps it fluid. The river's perpetual motion drives it to the sea. Come to stand with me at the icy verge and see the hidden life of the trees and water, the reeds and grass beneath the snow. This is the sleeping night time of the forest and riverbank, the long winter's rest fueling the renewal of Spring. Here we can hear the water bubbling and flowing, the winter birds calling, the soft slumbering whisper of the trees as they rock in the wind. The clouds scud across the sky and like the phoenix go down in sunset flames to rise again from the night's dark ashes. Through the snow you can feel the steady pulse of the engine that drives all of life and lends the power to endure in freezing darkness until the sun returns again. Take its energy into yourself, let it rise through the soles of your feet, through the smell of the river water in your nostrils, from the music of the birds and trees in your ears. In this stillness at the dark edge of day, here in the trough of winter, feel the energy that drives the river water to the see filling and healing you, here by the river in winter.