I went to the garden early this morning. The grasses were bejewelled with dew and there was frost on the leaves. Although the garden is becoming more open it is becoming quieter, resting in the winter cold. The birds were silent today. White clouds drifted, drifted in the blue sky.
And yet, even before winter has properly set in, already there are new buds on bare branches.
And yet, even before winter has properly set in, already there are new buds on bare branches.
