In reflecting on this, my dear friend Kitty (sweet town mouse and brilliant list-maker) tells me what should perhaps be obvious to us (lest we be blinded by the plumage of Autumn in some May-December leaf romance), that trees laid bare are at their most beautiful in the winter because then you can see their true structure, like sculptures, or like drawing nudes. They show you their bones, their secret tight blossoms, their adorning nests, the passage of the moon. Which, in turn, brings to mind this spare verse from William Carlos Williams:
Winter Trees
All the complicated details
of the attiring and
the disattiring are completed!
A liquid moon
moves gently among
the long branches.
Thus having prepared their buds
against a sure winter
the wise trees
stand sleeping in the cold.
Feather By Feather 
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