The twisted branches of a sleeping tree against the pale blue of a mid-winter sky.
I love the way barren branches look against the soft pale blue of a winter sky. Their thin bonelike fingers reaching outward, becoming smaller and thinner until the tips intertwine in a tangled mass. You can hear the timber creak as a stiff breeze presses up against the trunk, the cold passing around; unable to penetrate the thick bark skin, but this is not the corpse of a tree. Hibernation, a deep winter’s slumber; time passes at a different speed for these sleeping giants. Standing alone in the woods I have more than once found my thoughts turning to curiosity, tinged with envy, as to what life their life must be like. Who among us doesn’t wish to live like a tree? Basking in the warm summer sun, sleeping through the worst winter snows, the changing of seasons is but a breath in your long existence. All the while, I am passing along on the ground below, on discarded autumn leaves, on winding stone paths underneath their canopy of twisted fingers, obvious to my presence they drowsily creek and stir in the weak sun of this mid-winter afternoon, waiting for the light an warmth that accompany the return of the spring sun.
Camera: Nikon D3100, 18-55mm lens
*# Tree Tuesday # TreeTuesday # treetuesday