Last Rites of Winter? Look, See, Pray

The Reflectionary

The last few leaves remaining on the beech tree. A few survived the autumnal cull, a few more clung on through the frostiest nights… but now it is all over bar the final flutter.

New buds and shoots are forming in the longer light and warmer airs. They will put fresh pressure on old joints, and the “old guard” are already colourfully crisp and comatose. Out with the old, and in with the new!

100150219 Hotham Pk editA strange dignity still attaches to the persistent remnant. Cracks may be showing, but the colour is bold in the warm Spring-like Sun. Bright copper flags salute the change of seasons; a bit like the Chelsea Pensioners, whose courage and colourful garb is also a  testimony to brave history.

Soon the fresh bright greens and bronzes of new shoots and buds will herald a resurrection of the tree. Birds, insects, squirrels and kids will riotously greet…

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