The deciduous trees are shedding their red and gold garments with some haste now, anxious to divest themselves of ice catchers and snow scoops. A little gust sets a shower of crimson flying from the dogwood. If the frost persists, the brush line across the road will quickly be a network of bare branches, wooden lace ready to be starched with snow.
365Caws is now in its 14th year of publication, and was originally intended to end after 365 days. It has sometimes been difficult for me to find new material, particularly during the winter months, but now as I enter my own twilight years, I cannot guarantee that I will be able to provide daily posts. It is my hope that along the way I may have inspired someone to a greater curiosity about the natural world. If so, I can rest, content in the knowledge that my work here has been done.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Hard Frost
The deciduous trees are shedding their red and gold garments with some haste now, anxious to divest themselves of ice catchers and snow scoops. A little gust sets a shower of crimson flying from the dogwood. If the frost persists, the brush line across the road will quickly be a network of bare branches, wooden lace ready to be starched with snow.
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