Looking ahead … uncharted … untracked … the possibilities are what we make of them.
The old branches shrouded the stump, looking like wings of snow. Almost angelic to the bunnies or birds that could have hidden beneath, protected from cold or predators.
“Who has wrapped up the waters as a cloak?”
“He spreads the snow like wool and scatters the frost like ashes.”
The week before, the trail was clear, and the aspen leaves blocked the sky overhead. What a change a bomb cyclone has made. This day, the snow was 8 to 12 inches deep, and golden leaves dotted the crystalline carpet.
Early evidence of warmer days grows between a rock and a hard freeze.
Outdoor dining at Winnemucca Lake, Round Top Mountain ahead
Serenity on ice … socially distanced … frozen and docked … and the skaters still skate.
At the top of the world, little grows in the dead of winter … and yet the sun brings forth hope.
without Him nothing was made that has been made
Winter’s a beach