I see beauty in the winter trees. When the leaves fall, the trees appear to be lifting their bare branches to the sky in praise to their Creator.
In my youth, though we lived in town, we frequently visited various farms and I became aware that nearly every farm had a “Back Forty” where you were warned to keep the gate closed. It seemed to be an important area as the farmer would so often refer to it. It is still a mystery to me why it seemed to be hallowed ground.