The Gnarled Tree

That gnarled tree. twisted and bent by mother nature. the wind, the rain, the snow. It’s fingers always stretching reaching for the sky. it’s roots spreading, searching, drinking from the moisture of the soil. Anchoring and holding on tight to the earth. Standing firm, basking in the sunshine, glowing in the moonlight. Allowing it’s shadow to cross the ground providing shade in the day, shelter in the rain, eeriness and thrills at dusk

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