A white half moon. I had to stare to see it--wafer thin--a moment of dissolution somehow suspended.

Cold. Early March winds at work scouring every surface, testing everything that thinks it's shut tight.

Why do the trees look...wiser...in this weather? They do, somehow. They should be admired, stoic as they are, with only their hard hide and long life to defend them.  Imagine them as fountains spouting from the ground that have been made solid, rooted creatures anchored in earth, reaching in every direction for light.  We're surrounded by these emblems of quiet, enduring strength whose growth is slow because it's sure.


 


Comments

Andy Buck
03/04/2013 10:35am

Want to see " quiet, enduring strength whose growth is slow.."? check out my beard.

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10/24/2013 1:08am

I stumbled on this from Google and wanted to say thanks for posting

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