The Air Wild with Leaves

Article Source: composerinthegarden.com

composerinthegarden

Listen! The wind is rising, and the air is wild with leaves ~Humbert Wolfe

Last week, a misty morning  turned the garden into a place of magic and mystery.

A few days later, a wild wind carried winter in its arms and spun the color from the trees into the air.

And then it snowed for two days.

In spite of the recent snow and freezing temperatures, the garden still offers moments of beauty. In a world that seems to have gone mad, the garden remains a place for quiet reflection, solace for frayed emotions and restless thoughts. Everywhere I look, there is richness of texture, of color, of light sifting through the trees, mist flowing down the hills. As I step on carpets of fallen oak leaves rimmed with morning frost, the world seems alive and abundant. A family of deer sidle by the fence, the red-tailed hawk whistles its distinctive cry, chipmunks…

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