Harshness vanished. A sudden softies
has replaced the meadow’s wintry grey.
Little rivulets of water changed
their singing accents. Tendernessess,

hesitantly, reach toward the earth
from space, and country lanes are showing
these unexpected subtle risings
that find expression in the empty trees.Rainer Maria Rilke


Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven with repose;
And in the blue an glooiing days
More thick than rain he shoppers his rays. Robert Louis Stevenson


Leaves falling, spinning
slowly tumbling to the ground
caught by blowen windRaymond A. Foss


Winter solitude —
in a world of one color
the sound of windMatsuo Basho