Twigs, stalks, stubbles and all kinds of leavings are what I greet along the edges of the frozen terrain I tread. It’s simply that time of year and as all souls know, it’s this occasion of reprieve that allows us to let up a bit before the burst of spring-budding beauties. It takes work to look like a magnolia or even a fiddle head. Rest up dears. This composition confirms it; what more can it say? I perhaps should have made a recording so the water that musically flowed into its course as the rays spouted from the heavens and danced to its rhythms could reach your ears.
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