An Ice Fan
j. laster

“I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape – the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show.”
Andrew Wyeth

j. laster

The wind folded, ice creased leaves. Summer leftovers. Lingering green ripples beneath a spangling of chill stars.

The Writer Elkhound observes that something is afoot.
j. laster

I savor this season.

Ah yes…
j. laster

Listening to the rain-muffled fireworks ringing in a New Year, it is impossible not to rejoice.

So much to enjoy on a winter’s day.
j. laster

Overtures of bird call are filtered through the breeze-shaken bare bones of January trees.

A northern winter recollected.
j. laster

In the darkness, hints of light. That is enough to send shivers through fingertips tapping on a keyboard, enough to ignite the unlikely fire that bursts through winter kindling.

j. laster

The Writer Elkhound and I wish all, collectively and individually, a New Year brimming with thoughtfulness and wonder.

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