Winter Storm, Yosemite
The mist falls over the peaks, And mystery surrounds the meadow. Strange shapes loom from the shrouded sky, Jump quickly out of gray And quickly back, As if afraid to be seen. Lake-top and stream-top Dance in the pitter-pit splatter, And add their own mist To the flowing gray cloud-rivers, Sneaking silently down tree-lined pockets To rest in the ghost forest. A sheen touches rocks and grasses; Flowers sparkle as the gentle splash Rinses new life into the world. Sing and rejoice! Sing in a strong voice! Earth is renewing!