Birches

Work day today and when I came out of school just after 1pm today the sun was reflecting magnificently off the trunk of the first silver birch tree. I looked at it amazed by the beauty, reflected momentarily on the fact that the camera was in the car 50 yards away, went for the iPhone in the depths of my bag, and the light slithered away from me...

So, with iPhone in hand, I was forced to try to be a little more creative with lining up the three trees and trying to get a bit of perspective on them.  The perfect moment had gone, but they are still lovely trees.

To go with the lovely trees, I give you an extract from Robert Frost's poem, "Birches" which may be appropriate for some considering the weather forecast we have at the moment.  As with all Frost poems, there is so much more than a description of the weather in the whole poem so you might like to look at it in its entirety here:
Birches by Robert Frost

An extract...
When I see birches bend to left and right 
Across the lines of straighter darker trees, 
I like to think some boy's been swinging them. 
But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay 
As ice-storms do. Often you must have seen them 
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning 
After a rain. They click upon themselves 
As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored 
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel. 
Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells 
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust— 
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away 
You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.