‘How goes it, dear Autumn?’ The voice was low, like the heavy sound of footfall on snow. It belonged to the entity known as Winter.

Autumn frowned and pursed her lips, deep in thought. She turned her golden eyes towards Winter who gazed back at her steadily with his own icy blue eyes. His snowflake eyebrows were raised as he waited for her response.

‘Well,’ Autumn began slowly. ‘All the trees have run their colour cycle and the animals have been gathering and are ready for their hibernation,’ she reeled off as she counted on her fingers. ‘The birds have migrated. All the conkers have dropped,’ she paused. ‘It’s been raining a fair bit actually. Also, I had a chat with our old friend Wind and she’s brought the temperature down some. Have you spoken to her about when you need her next?’

Winter nodded, his great icy beard clinked a little as he did.

‘Indeed I have, sister,’ he replied. ‘We discussed that January and February will have a certain number of days with sharper gales compared to last year.’ Winter held his palm out in front of him and a small whirl of snowflake sprang out of his hand to form a sphere of falling snow. His thumb and middle finger flicked and the sphere began to spin and then would stop when he grabbed it. He too, seemed deep in thought. He continued to play with the snow sphere idly as he spoke. Over the many years Autumn had come to understand that her brother did this when he was feeling a little restless.

‘The temperature will drop exceedingly this month. It will be the first time in 43 years that it will drop to below freezing for this part of the world. I fear my presence is not welcome as usual,’ he sighed a heavy long sigh and his icy breath is visible in the autumn air. The wind whips it high above the forest trees. ‘Food is scare during my season. The animals resent it. No one likes winter.’ His face was solemn.

‘You aren’t hated,’ Autumn admonished her brother. ‘You honestly have to stop feeling sorry for yourself.’ Her hands went to her hips as it did every year when she scolded her wise yet exasperating brother. He glanced up at her, his lips a thin line.

‘What about Christmas for the humans?’ Autumn asked. ‘Will there be snow for Christmas Day this year?’ Without her bare feet touching the ground, she walked over to a huge oak tree. Her long red and orange hair of golden leaves trailing behind her in the air, gently lifted by the cool breeze. She laid a hand on the tree’s trunk and immediately the last green leaf turned red, orange and then broke off and floated to the ground. She turned to her brother.

‘I would so love to see snow,’ she said wistfully.

A low chuckle escaped Winter’s icy lips. ‘Dear Autumn, you have been saying that every year since the dawn of time. Millennia will pass and I am afraid you will never see snow. That is a gift I cannot grant you.’

‘Yes, brother - and I’ll keep saying it every year,’ she threw him a sardonic look. ‘I’ve just heard it’s so beautiful…’

‘Indeed. It is.’ The snow in Winter’s globe had settled in a snowy scene. He held it up and Autumn drew closer.

‘So beautiful,’ she sighed, entranced by the sphere. There was a companionable quiet between the siblings then. Two powerful entities gazing at a snow globe in the middle of the dense forest, far away from its neighbouring towns and cities with their beeping cars, speeding trains and hoardes of people hurrying about their day on their smartphones.

Autumn was always acutely aware of how brief their meetings always were and yearned to hold onto their time together a little longer. It was always so bittersweet. It grew tiresome for Autumn sometimes, when she had to wait a year before sharing any messages or information with her brother.

‘Well,’ she shakes herself out of her reverie, ‘I better get going. Time for me to hibernate. Until I’m needed again.’

‘Very well, sister. Fare you well.’

‘Winter, will you say hello to our sister for me when you see her? Spring?’

‘Of course, dear Autumn. I will give her your regards.’ He smiles warmly then. A barely-there smile in his solem face that was more so in the eyes. He knew how important family was to her yet Winter was not typically the comforting type.

‘It’s just… it’s so strange to think I have had a sister all this time who I haven’t even met.’

‘And will never meet, sister,’ Winter’s frozen face raised an eyebrow. ‘For that is the way of things. Until the end of time.’

‘Until the end of time,’ Autumn repeated. She turned and walked away, her back to Winter. ‘Be careful with those blizzards!’ She called over her shoulder to him and caught his stiff nod.

Autumn stopped and began to spin, her hair of leaves whipped by the wind. She sank into the soil, still spinning and twirling all the while. When her head disappeared, her hair of leaves leapt into the air and floated gently to the ground.

The last of Autumn that year.

Until the next time and until the end of time forevermore.