Thoreau for your Saturday…

But while the earth has slumbered, all the air has been alive with feathery flakes descending, as if some northern Ceres reigned, showering her silvery grain all over the fields. We sleep, and at length awake to the still reality of a winter morning…The floor creaks under our feet as we move toward the window to look abroad through some clear space over the fields…The trees  rear and shrubs rear white arms to the sky on every side…as if Nature had strewn her fresh designs over the fields by night as models for man’s art.        A Winter Walk-1843

pic by td-thanks fro reading tim’s weed patch today!
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