I don’t often get in the mood to write poetry, but this time of year it sometimes happens. Not sure what it is, perhaps the approach of mid-winter, perhaps the shifted angles of light.
Wild Ozark™
Kingston, Arkansas. Where Madison Woods paints with Ozark pigments ... and talks to rocks, creeks, and trees.
This is beautiful, Madison. Almost spiritual! 🙂
Thanks, Celestine 🙂 It’s a very spiritual sort of encounter, actually 🙂