#ayearofcharacters

[thmadethis]

Tier 2!!! ••• The 2nd option will be A Year of Characters Pt. 1 & A Year of Characters Pt. 2 posters along with a companion guide! The Part 2 poster has a secret character that will only be available for the physical posters! Who is it? You'll just have to wait and find out! ••• #taylorhicksart #illustrations #drawing #dailycharacters #ayearofcharacters #posters #fanart #inspiration #digitalart #minimalpalette #ohioartists #columbusmakesart #614artsts https://www.instagram.com/p/CE61WyfDwB7/?igshid=3g6oesqwkqyn

[poet-in-the-dark-blog]

November was walking through thick trees. She had spent a couple days with October. November hadn't wanted to see the first snow, she was just passing through, like she always did. It was nice to see the same faces year after year, nice to catch up with so many she'd known for a long time. October was her favorite, she was quiet and structured and all put together. November smiled, remembering the conversations they'd had, long debates over a large array of topics. But November had to keep moving, almost as she was being pulled by a magnet, to the meeting place. But she still wanted to have fun. She wanted to meet people and run and not feel stuck. November had a bit of a temper that meant she had many acquaintances, but few true friends. She didn't mind, she was just so happy to have time to do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted

[poet-in-the-dark-blog]

October had arrived. She knew this was where the first snow would take place. All around the tree she was nestled in were others, like her, who had come to the those first glistening flakes fall from the sky. A loud hum hung in the air, but October knew it would die off as the snow approached. It would be silent when the first snow fell. Nearby, October could see many she had met before. There were others who even shared the great horns atop her head. But someone was missing. October racked her brain to remember who it was, but couldn’t for some reason. So she just turned to the white furball next to her and started a conversation. October was too practical to waste time trying to remember someone who would be here in the next week sometime.

[poet-in-the-dark-blog]

October was flying through rain, it pelted her in the face with every beat of her wings. She wanted to stop and seek shelter, but she knew that would put her behind schedule. October didn't want to be behind schedule and miss the first snow, so she flew on. Below, the bright leaves of the last deciduous trees shine up through the skeletal boughs they had fallen from. Everything was grey and cold, the kind of day when humans would creep into their houses and watch the world out windows. October has passed over a house a couple hours back where a mother watched, a baby on her hip, as her daughter jumped through puddles, laughing at the rain. October smiled at the memory, flying faster to her next stop with the hope of finding shelter from the rain.

[poet-in-the-dark-blog]

It was getting colder each mile October flew north. She was leaving behind the bright, flat leaves for their dark, prickly cousins. She was right on schedule, any day now the first snow would spiral down to earth. October could feel it in every minute particle of her body. She had passed over forests where animals were making their last preparations, sealing themselves into warm burrows, holes, and nests. October had passed over towns full of children jumping into piles of leaves, houses decorated with skeletons, the smells of soup and fresh bread leaking under doors and windows. October had seen all of that which she had yearned to see. Now she was ready for the next thing. She ruffled her feathers as it became colder, sealing in the heat from her body. October was excited.

[poet-in-the-dark-blog]

October was flying over darkened mountains. Her journey had taken her out of her planned path, but she was hungry and hadn’t been able to find anything. She listened for the right sounds, her ears straining for the infinitesimal rustle of leaves. Suddenly, the howl of a wolf pierced the star sprinkled skies. Startled, October found a place to land. The air was still for a moment before it erupted into sound. Cries pointed toward the moon as it hung, slender and bright over the woods. October listened happily, the sound always brought back memories. The images of past trips flashed through her mind and, for a few minutes, October forgot her plan and found peace.

[poet-in-the-dark-blog]

October was circling tightly downwards above an apple orchard. She loved the speed she could get up to and how the wind smoothed the feathers by her beak. Far below (though less far every second) October could see the dark red apples nestled among the orange/green leaves, the whole picture thrown into sharp contrast by the brown of bark and the yellowing of the grass. She could see little white mice and larger brown squirrels as they scampered among the trees, hoarding their winter snacks. As October neared the tree canopy, she tipped her wings upward, catapulting herself upwards. She wasn't hungry and it was time to move on.

[poet-in-the-dark-blog]

October was back on her own, just the way she liked it. Her time with September had been fun, but they couldn’t spend too much time together. They were to different. Where October liked symmetry and schedules, September liked confusion and chaos. As October flew high over the forest, she made her plan. A way to see all the things she wanted to see before she went to her winter home. She would travel to the coast, then go north. October loved all the colors the leaves changed and wanted to see them as they did so. But then she also wanted to see the very first snow of the year, says up near the poles. After she saw that, October would fly south again so spend the winter somewhere a bit warmer. October smiled into the dark. She loved a good plan.