A corner turned

Glowing white stems and a purple haze coating their terminal branches; these trees look more like Factory produce than young stands of sibling saplings self seeded across the heaths. Alien in the springing morning light beams cast by our orange star, partially occluded by cloud banks and the edge of the Earth. The silver birch, still remembering the gold pennies of their cast off clothing already dream of the coming solar energy boom, wriggling toes deeper into loam. Photosynthesising gowns still locked against the worst of winter; ice and the weather's wind tsunamis driven by alternate vortices, Siberian and Saharan blasts, oceanic and continental.