i find something beautiful about leafless, winter trees. their silhouette against blue sky is so graceful looking; the black, unpredictable lines.
i'm sitting here at my kitchen table at home (not provo home, but home home) looking outside at a naked tree. what's especially lovely about this tree is that i can see the shapes of the buds forming; the buds that will eventually turn into blossoms, turning into green leaves. another kind of hope.
it's been a great and unproductive, sweat pants, big bang theory, mat kearney, rainy saturday.