The snow had drifted blown deep in places
making walking a struggle
It softened the moor, hiding the gullys
and peat edged rough grass
It stumbled and spread disguising the heather
shrouding the pathways
The brilliant, the muted, the many shades of white
Etch the farmhouses and stone-built barns to the landscape.
The snow also brings a whispering silence
Underscored by a flurried breeze scattering
confetti over the bridal dress.
The wind drops and there is
a sense of tranquility.
A winter-scape
at a standstill.
Unhurried in its stealth,
an owl,
of grace and steel
sweeps upwards and
joins the air in easy conversation.
Rising over wave tops of snow
and reefs of dry stone wall
I watched until
there was only myself,
and the morning.
The imagery in The Owl In The Morning is inspiring.. The snow brings a whispering silence.. wow
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👍 Thanks for the kind comment
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