Softly

A winters’ morning light softly illuminates the landscape.

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Moon . . .

. . . no, not moonrise. Moonset, gauzed by nearly invisible fine, falling snow.

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Solitary

A solitary tree basks in the last rays of the day.

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Disentangled

After disentangling itself from a row of trees, the moon sails through an evening sky.

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Working

Beneath a rising moon on a glorious late autumn evening, a tiny dot of humanity, a farmer, continues working.

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Serene

A recent sunset was tranquil, restful, calming.

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Dull?

This season’s colours are muted. The sky is often cloudy, blue-grey for days at a time. Fields are shades of tan, brown, dun. Dull? Perhaps, to some sensibilities. My sensitivity to shades and grades of colour is heightened, sharpened. I try to appreciate these muted scenes for their own beauty.

Memory and anticipation

Although our first snow has melted, the memory remains. The anticipation of more hangs in my mind. More snow is coming, winter is coming, and I will do my best to embrace both.

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Blanket

A light white blanket softens the corduroy of a harvested cornfield.

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Tree in Field, Chatham-Kent

This tree stands, living through snow, rain, cold, heat, anything and everything thrown at it. It doesn’t rail against, revile, complain about, whine about the onslaught. Life is what it is, to be accepted and dealt with.

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