The trees branches, bent to the ground by the airy beautiful substance of transformation.
Drowned paths impassable in spring when the stuff melts.
What was white and clean, is now brown, black and sticky.
Soon substance of transformation tumbles in beautifully decorated pipes.
Excellent arteries are living and sparkling in light summer rain.
Then slowly the tumbling stops and paths are covered with gold.
Days grow shorter and colder.
Trees stately sleep when airy transformation fluff feathery paint the tree branches white.
Bend them to the ground when transformation fluff are numerous enough…
Going to the woods is going home.