Trees thrive in robust denial
of the season here. It is the
dead of winter in this nation's
capital city. The coldest, snowiest
such city on this planet.
Yet birds in blazing colour
and exotic shape flaunt
themselves, immune to the
crippling cold. Vines entangle
their landscape, in luxuriant
abandon of weather inclemency.
Leafage of immense bright green
emblazon themselves in brazen
display. Narrow-spined grasses
loft themselves into prominence.
Floral buds in every conceivable
shape and size seize the arras.
Blooms of flowers familiar and
treasured raise their radiant heads
in proud presence. Blue lakes glisten
and glow, refracting the
ambient, life-giving light.
A forest of trees thrives in colours
of pine, beech, spruce and birch.
Distant hills march into the background
humped and evanescent with
another season's colouration.
The watery deep too is here,
its dazzling conceit of shells and
aquatic plants and schools of
biddable translucent fishlife
languidly swimming through
their refulgent oceanic atmosphere.
We are surrounded by Nature's
kaleidoscopic presence, overwhelmed
by her gracious gifts within the
interior of our glass-stained home.
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