Grapevines in withered barrenness cling with rigid, freeze-dried curls to fencing. Winter snow covers tree skeletons while spring blossoms, summer buzz and fall fruits seem far away. Hope is firm, though. Nature continues with its preset pattern.
Spring will come again. Life will seep upward from the roots. It will push its way through the hard bark of trees to make buds. Leaves will unfurl and blossoms again will entice bees. But for now, I partake of stored produce from last year’s harvest and feel the cold.