Encased.

It rained last night, and as the temperature hereabouts was just above freezing, all we got was wet.

But up The Trail from here, in the incongruously named town of Florida, it was a decidedly different scene.  Trees bent double under a winter’s weight of ice.  Below them, the ground-level denizens held their breaths beneath a transparent blanket as if striking a pose:

This little blossom of Pineapple Weed, usually found in summer, was just coming out in this environment of Nine Months of Winter, and wasn’t likely to be pollinated this time ’round.  Guess that’s how it goes up there in the hills.

So winter’s coming, and with it, a whole new aesthetic.

I’m psyched.  😉