Archive for January, 2011

Where do the bikes go in winter?

Sing hopeful songs on dismal days.  – Don MacLean

The morning sun lights up the icicles and sets them on fire.

Mr. Mockingbird emerges from his hiding place in the fir tree to survey the land, buried deep in snow.

And you will see the moon of the morning, hanging pale-white against the blue sky that marks the end of the storm.

His personal favorite!

The stark, white landscape has me longing for the first green of Spring.

Someone has been walking by the partly-frozen creek and looking for a drink.

Brings a colorful start to a white, snowy day.

With the moon as its canvas, a tree paints in shadows with branches that reach toward the light.