"It is the life of the crystal,
the architect of the flake,
the fire of the frost,
the soul of the sunbeam,
This crisp winter air is full of it."
~ John Burroughs
~ 1837-1921
~ "Winter Sunshine"
~ 1875
An artistic view of leaves frozen in a chunk of ice in January at Wehr's Covered Bridge Park, Orefield, Pennsylvania reminded me of the line penned by John Burroughs.
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