It was one of the last days of summer. The sky was overcast and low; a sheet of gray clouds obscured the brilliant blue sky and hid the inviting rays of the afternoon sun. A relentless rain fell onto the world below. Most ponies stayed indoors to wait the storm out, but Minuette did not. She knew that the time she had long dreaded had finally come. So, while the rest of Canterlot waited in their houses, Minuette stepped out of her comfortable home and into the street.
The light blue unicorn carried nothing with her. She knew that without an umbrella the rain would quickly soak her mane, but she did not care. She was too filled with emotion. The unicorn had known that this day was coming, and at last it was here. In Minuette’s life – and in the life of everypony – there are many seasons. There is a time to laugh, and a time to sing. There is a time to dance, and a time to mourn. This day – this hour – was the season of mourning.
She knew there was nopony else who shared her grief. In all of Canterlot there was probably nopony who even understood it. Minuette had many friends, but some sorrows cannot be shared. Some griefs of the heart are private and cannot be entered into by others.
The blue unicorn quietly made her way out of the wet city. The cold rain splattered onto the cobblestones underneath her hooves and added a thick layer of humidity to the afternoon air. As she slowly walked the city’s streets she listened to the noise of the rain as it drummed on the nearby roofs. It was a soothing sound. The noise reminded her that in spite of what was near, better days would come.
Minuette slowly walked out of the city. The few ponies which were still outside hurried on about their business so they could get out of the pouring rain. None of them paid her any attention. They were Canterlot ponies, after all. Each soul was wrapped up in its own affairs. It was difficult to catch the attention of a citizen of a capitol. They were used to the best and finest things that civilization had to offer, and the mundane aspects of life were beneath their notice. Minuette was a remarkable pony in her own right, but she had not left the warmth of her home to show off or make new friends. It was time to pay her respects, before the end came.
Time passed, and Minuette continued her journey. She eventually found herself outside Canterlot. A brisk wind blew through the grassy fields that were outside the great walled city. The fields were wet and heavy, and the blustery wind kicked up a spray that soaked the blue unicorn. Minuette did not care. The dirt path beneath her hooves was muddy and laced with puddles, and the mud began to collect on her. The unicorn knew that she must have been a grim sight. Her mane was dirty and soaked and she was long passed being a mess. But her heart was full, and that outweighed all her other concerns. Her appearance could wait. Some things were more important.
The ponies of Canterlot, of course, did not see it that way. They wore the finest silks and prided themselves on having the most noble and elite connections. Yet, for all their riches, they were blind to the world around them. They could not see what was about to be lost.
Ahead of Minuette was her destination – the great woods. These woods were not like the dark trees of the Everfree Forest. Minuette had been to that dark place only once, with her friend Moondancer. The two of them had raced into forest on a dare so they could say they had done it. But the very air of that cursed place seemed to chill their bones. When they made it out of the woods – alive and unharmed – they decided to never go back. Only a fool (or a pony of great power) would dare set hoof in a forest like that.
But the glade was different. Minuette soon found herself sheltered by towering trees. Here were oaks and cedars that were centuries old when Minuette’s grandparents were but children. Here were trees that were mighty and strong and which had weathered many a storm. Their comforting branches spread out far above the unicorn’s head, and their leaves provided shelter from the unrelenting rain. She could hear the water falling upon the leaves, moistening them and trickling down the branches into the soil. It was a warm and gentle sound.
The unicorn made her way deeper into the woods. There was very little underbrush. She didn’t know why; perhaps somepony cared for these woods. But no matter what the cause, it made her glad. This was not a forest of brambles and thorns and pain. This was a deep wood, with moss and ancient stones and little streams that had been half-forgotten.
To Minuette it almost seemed like an enchanted place. If the Everfree was a bad place then this was a truly good place. It was located just a few miles outside of Canterlot and yet Minuette was certain that most of the city’s residents had never set hoof in it. After all, Equestria’s rich elite might get dirty – and they couldn’t have that, now, could they?
Minuette stopped and looked at her reflection in a puddle. What she saw made her laugh. She had indeed become one with the forest. The pony was completely soaked and she had mud everywhere. It was glorious.
As the rain continued to pour, Minuette galloped through the deep woods. She had been there many times before and she knew the old paths well. The pony was certain that one day her own foals would gallop through these same woods, while the rain poured overhead.
Yet today was not a day for mirth and gladness. Those days had come and they were now gone. This rain was one of sadness, not triumph. The end was now very near – and Minuette had to face it alone.
Minuette made her way to a small clearing in the heart of the woods. She had discovered this place when she was young, and she liked to imagine that she was the only pony who knew of its existence. A part of her knew that this was unlikely, but it was a fantasy she enjoyed believing. Near the center of the grassy clearing was a large, smooth rock.
The unicorn sometimes wondered about the history of that rock. Had this been a place of ancient ceremonies? Perhaps Princess Celestia and Luna, in their youth so very long ago, had pranced around this very stone. Perhaps this was the very spot where the nation had been founded. This could be the stone where the legendary Starswirl learned his magic and perfected his greatest spells.
Or perhaps it was just a wet rock in the woods. Minuette knew that Celestia could probably tell her, if she asked. The unicorn didn’t know Celestia personally, but Twilight did. If she asked Twilight, the book pony could ask Equestria’s ruler – but then Minuette would know the boring truth. So she didn’t ask.
Minuette sat on the rock and looked around her. The forest spread out in all directions, and was so high that Canterlot itself could not be seen. Tall trees grew overhead and sported strong branches that were covered in green leaves. But soon all of that would change.
The Equestrian summer was coming to an end, and there was nothing Minuette could do to stop it.
As the rain fell from the sky, Minuette began to weep. She wept for the change that was coming to her beloved land – a change that she could not stop, no matter how hard she tried. Soon the leaves, so mighty and green, would decay. They would lose their color and die, and the lifeblood of the woods would fall to the ground and be trampled under hoof. The trees, which were adorned with such a beautiful tapestry of greenery, would lose their rich garments and be left barren.
But the bitter changes would not stop there. The air itself would grow cruelly cold and devoid of all warmth. The beautiful silver rain would turn into dangerous ice. The animals of the forest, which provided such joy and life, would be forced to leave. Some of them would depart altogether to a different climate, while others would burrow underground to wait out the coming apocalypse. Those which did neither would not survive the coming hardships for long, unless they were truly hardy indeed.
The last days of summer had come, and the end was near indeed. Very shortly – perhaps even tomorrow – the fall season would begin and the process of decay and destruction would start. Once all was lost and the beauty of the forest was gone, an icy coating would cover the ground. For months this white funeral shroud would encompass the whole land.
Some ponies rejoiced in the changing of the seasons, but Minuette did not. She hated to see the leaves ripped from the trees. She hated to see the forests evacuated and the world caught in an icy, inhospitable grip. The ancient legends said evil windigoes brought ice and destruction into the world in response to the disharmony of the pony races. Yet in modern times ponies created the dreaded ice themselves, of their own accord.
To Minuette it was a senseless waste. How could nopony else see the horror of what was coming? Minuette wanted to shout at the weather pegasi who were working so hard to put an end to all that she loved: how could they not see the foolishness of their actions? But they were in the air above, and she was on the ground below.
The wise claimed that the seasons were necessary – that it was all a part of the cycle of life. But Minuette had heard tales of places in the world that did not have seasons. In those realms the ice never came, and the animals of the forest were never forced to leave their homes. During the darkness of the Canterlot winter, when the days were short and the weather was unbearable, Minuette sometimes considered moving to one of those magical places. Yet she could not bear to leave her beloved home. Who would dance in the woods if she was not there? Who would welcome the first flowers of spring and rejoice at the rebirth of the world? The ponies of Canterlot were too caught up in Rarity’s latest fashions to notice the magnificent garments that the forest put on every spring. The finest gowns of Sapphire Shores could not compare to the lilies of the woods.
Today was a time to mourn, for winter was on its way and could not be stopped. Soon the cruel plan of the weather pegasi would win the day, and the woods that Minuette so loved would be forced to yield. But even in mourning there was still hope. Spring would come again, and with it new life and a new day. Minuette had only to wait. The darkness of winter was near, but spring would come again.
Author's Note
Sometimes when you look into the future, all you can see is the coming of winter. Yet, in spite of all that, winter is not going to last forever. There will be better days beyond it.
