An old dead tree stands alone on Rannoch Moor, Highlands of Scotland. The gateway to Glencoe in the distance.
“O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being,
Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,
Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,
Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou,
Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed"
canon 400D + sigma 10-20mm and Lee filters