We’re in the “dead” of winter. Very few leaves are left clinging to anything after all the rain and the storms. The land is quiet, still, and waiting for the return of spring. I’m waiting, too!
Our oaks look like black lace against grey skies. They are sleeping and like Lucy Pevensie in C. S. Lewis’ The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, I want to shout to the tress: “Wake up! Wake up!”
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