Our landscape is back to the bare bones.
Again we can catch a glimpse at the structure of things,
the truth of them.
Leaves blown from branches, grasses falling back to Earth,
we are left with the finely wrought network of stem and branch
only partially obscuring our view of what is beyond.
The horizon has opened.
Woodland windows opened to see past the edges,
into the heart of things.
There is a hardness, an emptiness, a utilitarian look to the world in winter.
Sharpness in the air echoed by the sharpness of the light
Echoed again in the sharp chirps and trills and laughter
of birds calling to one another
With warning, with encouragement, with wisdom
With the sheer joy of a light washed winter day.
All Photos by Woodland Gnome 2014
