When trimmed with snowy white or touched by morning frost most anything becomes a scene. . . .for those who slow to see. Soul of the countryside is deep in thought with her last run at winter in force.
The slightest bit of red can polish up an outfit!
And, how does fate decide which leaf shall drop first windy autumn day and which shall hold the winter long?
Animals peer, scurry and nose about, winter branches draw their miles of crooked line and white is still the color of the day.