Late Winter

 

Another cold front muscles its way to the deep south. The wind shivers the trees but the live oaks won’t give up their leaves until late winter or early spring.
The swamp maple, black from the rain, points its limbs in every direction like quivering fingers against a back-lit, cloudy sky, silently clawing to ‘rouse the morning sun, stroking the night ’til another day’s begun.-Peter Kuhn
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