Morning, U.P., 3 degrees

I missed a thousand good photo images on the drive south through the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, the hazard of being the passenger instead of the pilot. So here is the click of the shutter with my pen:

Crystal morning, the sun backlights the ice-coated trees.
Deep-dark green conifers flocked in snow send their spires heavenward. The snow is sprinkled with sparkles, tinted gold in early sunshine. A glossy black crow pierces the whiteness with his diagonal flight. There are blue snow shadows and a hundred shades of grey and brown. But the warm colors are exquisitely subtle, requiring effort to find, reddish or yellowish branch tips and ruddy pine trunks and sparse stands of straw-colored grass. Cattails are frosted tufts on solo stalks. Pines predominate but white birch are the accents that enliven the scene with their patterns that are simultaneously vertical and horizontal. How bland the scene would be without the vertical thrust of all the trees.

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