A slow rising sun, lit the frost touched landscape as muffled sounds of gunshot could be heard filtered through the fog, from the hunt in nearby fields. Every vista a linear perspective of crisp blue waterways, elegant poplar trees, rows of apple orchards and the trail of an orderly mole who’d made way along the path.
Nature knows winter is for simplifying as she sheds almost all traces of last years growth. Out with the old and standing still before the new. Exposed, pure and as clear as the cold, waking the senses to a new reality as the year lies ahead.
What must we shed to make way for new purpose? What still hangs to the branches, not yet ready to let go? Be brave as there is beauty in the emptiness. The hidden can be seen and the wish to begin again, only weeks away from being realised.