every where. My RedTip Photinia branches are thrashing each other, the roof and the porch supports like crazed whips.
A 30 degree northern wind is blowing clouds of dead Oak leaves. As the large Red Tip Photinia flowers fill the of my palm of my hand with large balls of tiny white flowers. Which scatter like snow flakes in the cold northern wind.
Which shakes the mighty Oak branches to strip the dead leaves and offer them to the wild wind in shades of brown, rust and pale gold. Thus creating a carpet which crackles and breaks apart under my foot steps.
The wind, like a child, tosses a handful of color into the air, only to have them rise and fall again when the wind finally dies.
PC Dailey (c) March 29, 2023
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Love All Life; Thank You For Posting! :)