And suddenly, here I am on a grey November day, the bit of earth I inhabit moving steadily into winter. While a few trees still hold on to their varicolored leaves, they are a dwindling minority.

magnolia branch 1

The magnolia outside the front window is bare–or would seem to be at a casual glance. On closer observation, the skeletal branches are not completely lifeless: each one is tipped with a closely furled bud, clad tightly in a furry case. It would seem that the tree is confused, soon to encounter the frustration of its Spring hopes.

magnolia branch 2

Many months will pass before the promise each bud whispers comes to fruition in flowers and leaves, but come it will.The tree need only wait.

magnolia branch 3


2 thoughts on “Promise

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