The rutted roads are all like iron; skies
Are keen and brilliant; only the oak-leaves cling
In the bare woods, or the hardy bitter-sweet…

When the day changed and the mad wind died down,
The powdery drifts that all day long had blown
Across the meadows and the open fields,
Or whirled like diamond dust in the bright sun,
Settled to rest, and for a tranquil hour
The lengthening bluish shadows on the snow
Stole down the orchard slope, and a rose light
Flooded the earth with beauty and with peace.
Then in the west behind the cedars black
The sinking sun stained red the winter dusk
With sullen flare upon the snowy ridge,—
As in a masterpiece by Hokusai,
Where on a background gray, with flaming breath
A scarlet dragon dies in dusky gold…Extract…Bliss Carman

“Where a scarlet dragon dies in dusky gold” aptly describes a winter sunset…with nothing in it’s way the sun lights the earth…melted snow in the ruts and puddles turn to precious metal …just for a moment the gold rush is on…Janis..Ontario, Canada..Watercolour on Arches Not Paper…

• More Winter Paintings HERE