snow falling. the snowflakes dance and twirl in the crisp air, readying themselves for a final resting place. the naked trees tantalize them with promises of long life and escape from the muddy snowbanks that most of these pointlessly unique creatures are destined for. the trees themselves are seeking nothing short of immortality, dressing themselves in the white garb and hoping for a photographer with the right skill and disposition to come and capture their own unique profile, set against a baby blue backdrop, highlighted by the bright warmless sun of January. In their silly little tree brains, once that picture leaves the analog world for the infinite replication of digital, it will make their visage outlive their flesh.
too bad for them that this winter is warm, and the snow melts before i even finish this post. too bad for them and great for me. suckers.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment