missing verdant

While I love the near-perpetual greyness of Clevelandian climes, and the stark beauty of blowing snow and bare trees, I am starting to really miss the greenery that comes with summer, resisting the urge to spend way too much on seeds for flowers now for sale at the drugstore when I've got so many left over from last year. In the meantime, I am reveling in the gloom, attempting to keep the houseplants alive, and dreaming of verdant hues returning.

(tunnel of love, Ukraine)

Peter Steele's Tree is not as cool as Thomas Hardy's Tree

 

Stan Hywet and its birches are closer to home.  Come to think of it, it's been a few years since I've gotten down there.