So this post is a little late.
Sometime before Thanksgiving I start my rambles through the woods, pastures and along country roads.
I find spent Queen Anne's Lace, now become brown snowflakes.
Dock and other weeds playfully remind me of summer past.
As the catkins emerge, a few will grace my kitchen counter.
The alder twigs cast down by the wind form an arabesque.
Early buds from the Hawthorn are deep garnet.
Just before Christmas, rose hips are tucked here and there.
Soon, violets will fill the vases, and camelias will float in little bowls on the table. But I confess winter's delicate gifts make me smile.
