this year. We just aren’t ready. It seems we just got back from Lakeside. Tuesday morning we awoke to white puffs on trees and bushes still bursting with fall color, or at least they were on Monday. Then the sun came out, but the temperature didn’t rise much. My childhood friend, Lynne, sent this poem. Expresses very much how I feel.
The tree has blossomed overnight,
For every twig is frozen white
And garlanded with crystal sprays
That sparkle in the sun's bright rays
And on the window I can trace,
Where silver branches interlace,
A picture on the pane embossed:
A fairy orchard white with frost.
Lynne Fleming Wilburn
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