We are deep into Autumn now. The templet for winter is being set with gradual cold, gray days. I wait for words, for poetry, for a story. I'm empty. I'm like these trees, now naked to the sky, and remembering sunshine and warmth.
A few trees resist. The creek, also. But they will soon join the calendar and be frozen on the days, dreaming of spring.
November Creek:
Photo © 2014 Rick Burnett Baker
Autumn for me (and you know the reference is lost to us island boys) has always been kinda sad but also a little hopeful. It's like nature's way of throwing the last bit of color before everything is swallowed in cold white. Haha
ReplyDeleteNyl you'd love the white part till to had to shovel it for 6 months!
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