Autumn has gone. Winter has arrived. There is something dramatic and heavy about this season.
The dying, followed quickly by the simmering of new life, just under the surface.
The suspense.
These photos were taken at the bottom of our long driveway. Walking up the drive, I noticed buds already beginning to form on branches, all ready for their spring reveal.
This maple tree usually carries its leaves (some still green) until well after the beginning of winter, crossing the seasonal border with style and aplomb.
It carries its own sense of timing and defiant air.
Out of any direct hit of prevailing winds, it proclaims, "I will go. But only when I am good and ready".
I'm sure the other trees already into their deep winter sleep, do not hear. Or care.
