Gloriously sad, profound the tree's like mourners weep their second hands tears. The hill ridge path like a ribbon of sure ground rises between the heavy mist, as a narrow island between two endless grey sea's. The snowdrops in Grundy's Meadow hang their head's, respectfully still and quiet.
But the sharp green gorse, which just weeks ago was heavy with frost clinging snow, now is resplendent, covered in golden sunshine yellow. They are laughter for the eyes.
Some day's nature beauty is just poetic.
 |
| Snowdrops |
 |
| Gorse flower detail |
No comments:
Post a Comment