I love the architecture of trees in winter — the skeletal branches against the sky — there is something vulnerable in the way old gnarly trees are exposed when their leaves drop.
The sky was constantly changing during our brief visit to Pennsylvania. Storms moved in and out, alternately offering blue sky with sun, menacing banks of clouds, and fresh snow. When the sun shone, the branches appeared in silhouette on the snow AND the sky.
These shadows move me — they feel grand, larger than life, as if the tree remembers its leafy fullness.