Not quite gardening, but certainly a meditation on nature's cycle of seasons, one of the things I like about the temperate zones.
Winter Trees
In changing seasons, changing scenes,
From sturdy limbs once clothed in greens,
The stately trees have loosed their hold
On leaves turned scarlet, orange and gold.
For some winter dulls the senses -
Blocking beauty, building fences.
But winter skies with clear blue light
Reveal a wondrous, classic sight.
Sleek silhouettes make earth and sky
A canvas drawing in the eye,
To see the form and armature
Upon which other seasons moor.
From afar a rolling ridge-line
Branches thick seem branches fine.
The lacy finger-fans of limbs
Look delicate, like dainty trims.
Near roadside more can now be seen-
A dearth of leaves, no hiding screen.
And so the ragged nests appear,
Like paint dabs spattered there and here.
Tapering trunk with spreading bough
Displays a waiting, watching owl.
And near a red-tailed hawk sits high
With turning head to scan the sky.
While spring, summer and autumn woods
Inspire in some creative moods,
A winter's stark revealing tree
Shows a beauteous world to me.
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