On The Edge Of The Stream

Fate and Zinnia after our walk in the woods. Fate wants to get the sheep

I curled my fingers into a fist inside my gloves to keep them warm.  Instead of going over the Gulley Bridge,  I walked on the snowy hummocks in the marsh.  This time of year, when everything is frozen I get to walk in places I couldn’t otherwise.

The stream was mostly frozen except for a thin line of black water that rushed down the middle of it.  The edges of the ice transparent and scalloped like lace.

I stood on the edge of the stream looking through the tall bushy Alder’s at the sun just above the hilltop.  Even so low in the sky it warmed my face and made the tall dead grasses glow gold.

I closed my eyes and heard the bubbling of the stream, a truck in the distance, and the wind coming through the trees.  Then the wind was icy on my face as if the sun had disappeared.

But when I opened my eyes the sun was still there twisting the Alder branches into circles of light.

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Full Moon Fiber Art