top of page
Bruce Siebold

Frozen in my Memory


During the damp cold night, the Earth Mother sprinkled hoar frost upon Eighty Acres. The frost hugged each stem, branch and blade of grass, turning the land into a shimmering crystal cave. The morning sun burned away each flake, dropping the wonderland to the ground below. Soon all was gone, but the beauty remains frozen in my memory.

12 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All
bottom of page