April is the cruelest month: high winds yesterday, roaring across the mountain. They pulled trees back and forth. Several trees finally broke, like this one, toppled across our lane.
I hauled it out of the way. Later on I'll cut it up for firewood. Should be good stuff.
This morning the winds remained, and now carried some fresh snow. I imagine, anthropomorphically, that the trees look patient and tired, even melancholy: