I was not the only neighbor out with a camera yesterday morning. Unfortunately, the cardinals were too shy for me to catch but look how those red bows contrasted with the snow. Just imagine it! And later the sun came out! Pure glory!
You will go out in joy
and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills
will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field
will clap their hands. Isaiah 55:12
Oh dear, I cannot resist putting in this poem. I am becoming my mother.
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
-- Joyce Kilmer
Here is a blog about trees called Arboreality.