Late afternoon walk

The tide is low. The trees are waiting. 

I have a book on my table that I haven't read yet. Wintering. This quote comes from it. I read it in a review and was really struck by it. Especially when I look out at the winter trees. They are not dead. They are waiting. With the potential of new life lying in the dormant buds. Life meanders like a path through the woods. We have seasons when we flourish and seasons when the leaves fall from us, revealing our bare bones. Given time, they grow again.