Sometimes we forget to look up - and contemplate the meaning of the patterns we see. I found this poem that fits this scene in the Great Smoky Mountains perfectly. It is only in winter you can appreciate the intricate details of a tree to the very tips of its branches.
Winter Trees
All the complicated details
of the attiring and
the disattiring are completed!
A liquid moon
moves gently among
the long branches.
Thus having prepared their buds
against a sure winter
the wise trees
stand sleeping in the cold.
Poem by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS (1883–1963)
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