There's something about the simplicity..the purity..the lines and shapes and forms of the winter tree.
Stripped bare of its summer cloak...it is nothing but what it is. Strong. Tall. Graceful. Rooted. It holds the sky in the palms of its outstretched hands. It balances the ground beneath it.
It bends with the wind. It sways with the breezes. It catches the snow and allows the rain to slip thru its graceful fingers. It provides a resting place for long lost birds...a home for their nests.
It was the color of the sun and its light reflecting on the passing morning clouds that initially caught my eye. It was the elegance of the tree and its branches....that centered it.
What is it about a winter tree - naked and innocent - that speaks to such beauty?