... Because I Couldn't Stop for a Photograph.

When driving, I sometimes feel as if I am standing still, and the world is moving past me.

This is especially true at dawn.

Yesterday the trees were coated in a thick layer of powdery snow. It lay over the branches, a soft white shrug worn by each tree according to their individual fashion sense. I loved the deep green pines sweeping their bristles down under the contrasting fluff. I loved the way the powder piled up on the bare branches of midwinter oaks down by the lake.

Everything moves in slow motion at dawn. The sun nibbles it's way down the trees; sleepy love-making. The snow on the branches blushes with every new caress.

The orange light begins to pale. The sun hops out of bed and starts tackling the day with a more business-like light, paling into yellow, sneaking between the trees to play hide and seek with the long shadows on the ground.

I drive on.


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