love notes

Almost late winter limbs are collectors.  Thick branches cradling heavy snow, thin stems laden with beads gathered from the low cloud -- and the snow below becoming honeycombed as water grows heavy with its own weight until it must let go.

 

Pretty sure I can't write a love note that doesn't mention trees.

...and the color of snow covered fields is just different from the fading gray of the mid-February twilight.  Spare but holding its own against the drama of the black and soaked trees.