The White Pines and Red Pines held on to the snow and towered above the smaller hardwoods:
The bushes alongside the road had the thickest concentrations of small branches, all of them coated with winter white:
I passed by an old stone wall, behind which was a snow covered hay field and forest:
Ghostly white limbs seemed to reach out over the road in places:
A barbed wire fence was coated in snow, and behind it were a few small Beech trees, still holding onto their leaves:
In places, it almost seemed as if the trees were dancing:
A White Pine, drooping with the weight of the snow:
An old, dirt lane led off the into the woods to some mysterious destination.
A tangle of weeds and small trees where a farm field used to be. Winter storms are a lot of bother, but they impart a lot of beauty to an otherwise drab November landscape:
