A bitter wind sent me seeking shelter in a sparse clump of trees.

I stop in a patch of last summer’s thistles.

Flattened by hooves and winter snow, wispy white flower heads survive.


5 thoughts on “Thistledown

    1. Hi Edward

      Thanks for your kind words. Do plants speak to me? I guess they do!

      On your Home page you write: “A walk in the landscape is about unforeseen discoveries.”

      True words. It is heart-wounding that so many of us have lost the ability to wonder, to be awe-struck, to feel our breath stop in amazement and joy.

      I am especially drawn to the small, often unnoticed bits β€” the “walk-bys” as I think of them. Things we have tuned out (if we ever tuned in).

      It’s for my own heart’s ease that I wander with my camera. If I make time to stop, look and ponder, I am never disappointed.

      Liked by 1 person

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