Frost

Frost

“It is the life of the crystal, the architect of the flake, the fire of the frost, the soul of the sunbeam. This crisp winter air is full of it.”
–John Burroughs

Soft Grass

Soft Grass

When you take the time to really look at something, even a single blade of grass, it becomes something mysterious and awesome.

Cafe Winter Solstice

Dreamland

I had a recurring dream when I was a kid.
It was night.  I was totally alone in a small hilltop village square, cobblestones beneath my feet.