Winter bathes the world in a surreal light. As I look out my window I feel as though I am looking at a stage set for a play. The bare branches of the trees hold intricacy and detail that had been previously hidden by the fullness of its leaves. Winter is not colored in the pastels of spring, but in the vibrancy and richness of acrylics. It is winter and I am living in a play that has been transposed onto canvas. Breathtaking.