A Big Tree With Different Kinds Of Fruits And Vegetables And Many Sheep Drinking A Stream And Eating Under The Tree Art

a tree in nature
Arctic horizon
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
The monster (Mt. San Gorgonio) rises in the North, all hoary-frost above behemoth shoulders. Snake-like clouds adorning her, I crane my neck, Gaze fixed past the big white house toward uplifted boulders. And at the South, like his namesake martyr, Hyacinth (Mt. San Jacinto) has lost his head in cloud. Burned bones against a blue backdrop he wears that legacy proud. Between the two, another sunrise gleams and beams of brilliant, white-hot day flash forth: Accentuate Sonora’s west extremes, and last night’s moon forgot to go away.
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
This day, though, I hiked another autumn wood. Eastern Europe ancient; overgrown. So thick the view was dark at just a few feet off the path. All red and yellow; orange and brown, a million trees, each one in blazing preparation for long, frozen winter. I cannot but recall my friend’s words, lasting long, though he did not, and the instant truth that follows. Looking upward at the fiery canopy, matched against the bright cerulean sky beyond, I embrace autumn! Winter surely comes one day, but spring beyond. I have a winter to prepare for, but it is not yet.
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature
a tree in nature