Where has the forest gone? Months ago, tall trees lined the horizon as I gazed upon Grandfather in the distance. But now the trees are bare, no flowers, no leaves. The majestic mountain sun shines through the naked trees that stand in wait. Where are the birds, the deer and the turkey? Surely they wait only for the forest to awake from its temporary slumber. Wait. Nothing has gone, for all is here, hiding, sleeping, dreaming of the spring.
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