Nature (and some Robert Frost)

Each season, which is lovely in its own way, speaks to me--in tiny smudges of color and brushstrokes of darkness or light. It's why the half dead flower is still remarkable in springtime and the ashen tree branches midwinter still look delicately poetic. Fall holds a special place in my heart because everything turns the color of a sunset.

So today I am thankful for nature... for the leaves, the birds, the comforting wamrth of a summer day or the nostalgic bite of frosty winter air.

Nature's first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf's a flower;

But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf,

So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day,

Nothing gold can stay.

Nothing Gold Can Stay, Robert Frost