The woods stood as great shadows brought to life by festive hand, as if they had been called forth from a wintry land.
The woods crowned the land with protective grace, an ever evolving map, its strong roots holding the earth firm in all weathers.
If one had only seen woods as a photograph, it would be your dearest wish to take a stroll amid the trees with senses open wide.
In the dappled sunlight amid the boughs and strong risen roots, I can feel my spirit weave itself into nature, as if for this time I am one with this place and all the life that is here.
The water ways of the woods, the blues and white lace amid the earthy hues, amid the dance of green, come together as a visual form of poetry, one read by the naked soul.
In the community that is the woods, from the trees to the insects and birds, there is a sense of divine peace that settles soul and spirit.
For the eye that captures moments as easily as a camera lens, the woods offer a chorus of browns leading up to a seasonal cupola. And with this image it weaves nature's aromas and hearty birdsong. Thus on any given day, at any time, in any weather, the woods can tether my spirit in the most soothing of ways.
A celebration of browns and greens await us in the woods, for these are the colours or nature's finest dreams.
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