Bare Boughs

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Winter is often regarded as drab dreary and dull when Nature seems to be so very dormant. While that may be true, winter has a beauty of its own. It reveals reality as it is without the
frills and fancies and this is particularly true of trees like the maple trees that flank the Tiber.

They are so bare, stripped as it were to the bone. And as I walked along the Tiber I marvelled
at the intricate ramification of boughs and branches. Designs far too dextrous even for a kaleidoscope to create caught my eye as branches twined and intertwined, branches that would soon with the onset of spring be clothed with blossoms and foliage.

Is it not true that at times the foliage in life prevents us from noticing and appreciating the bare beauty behind that sustains and supports it? That we stop at the leaves and do not seem to see the boughs? That we are taken up with the mere superficial exterior and fail to penetrate
the more profound interior?

There are people who like to put on a lot of make-up. I am not referring to cosmetics alone.
Is not this a cover-up or compensation for real beauty? They hide behind masks and masquerades. Our world would be more real and beautiful if only people dropped their "foliage" and dared to bare their "boughs!"

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