A songbird perched in the stark branches of the old apple tree, winter still clinging, branches still bare. Her melody rang across the frost-laden earth, warming the atmosphere. A golden halo of sunrise lit up the crest of our mountain ridge with an amber glow and slowly spread across the forest, down the slope and grazed the top of the apple tree — the delicate light illuminating her feathers.
Light and song.
Winter awaiting spring.
For surely spring will come, hope will rebound across this land.Read More