The bareness of trees
Howling winds
Winter sun, inviting the contrast of bitter cold, but shining warmth
The pitter patter of perfect raindrops
Or a collective gush…
when you’re caught in the rain
The droplets of water, adorning each branch like precious, pure fingertips
And the marvel of how such a powerful downpour can leave such delicate results.
This is a repost of a photo essay from years ago. You’ll need to read the captions with each image. Apologies for the poor image quality. Those were days of more elementary cameras.
