It’s in November that I have a real sense of the seasons meeting each other – fall’s presence lingers as winter arrives and attempts to cover it all. A mutual seasonal accommodation; water still flowing, leaves still visible and yet beautiful snow clinging to the tree branches. But the forest is quieter than in the fall as I stand listening to the trees groaning in the wind. That’s what it felt like earlier this week along the creek near the Mackenzie King Estate. A meeting place of the seasons
A Meeting of the Seasons
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