When I came out of the farmhouse yesterday morning to try to capture the desolate feeling of the harsh nor’easter,  l looked to our apple tree, as old as the farmhouse itself, sick or no, the old tree talks to me and tells stories of the winter pasture.

Yesterday, she told me it was cold, and she showed me just how cold it was, the winds blew the snow sideways, and gave the old tree a new look. This tree is tough and hardy, she has seen a lot of winters but never had a new dress before