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Art main Montana

Our First Snow Changes my Palette

I woke up this morning to a deep quiet outside my window. The window was open a few inches (I like sleeping with cold air on my face.) Most mornings, even as late as yesterday morning, I awake to the chatter of tiny songbirds in the lilacs just outside. This morning all was silent. It was our first snow and I knew my paint palette was going to change with the season.

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Helena main Montana myphotos photography

The Color of Zero Degrees Cold

it takes a day like today:
wide open skies,
not a single cloud,
an almost
(imperceptible)
mist hanging close
to the frozen earth.

it takes this kind of day
to remember
how many different blues are inside the cold,
… how many
different
colors belong to white.

Snow. Is not. White.
(You knew that.)

Categories
main photography Seen :: writing

Seen :: spirit pines

weathered cones cling
to the branches of
spirit pines