Flee they say,
back toward the sun in summer.
Through the thick of winter white and crusted ground,
frigid temperatures reaching outward to brown, yellow, and red leaves once again.
Arise from the earth,
where sweet nothings cling to you and your heart is lost in the dizzy spell,
where you were last seen touching the sand and holding hands,
in the dog days of summer.
Keystroke Stories 
Stunning!
Thank you
Beautiful photo!
Thank you.