“Winter never dies. Not as people die. It hangs on in late frost and the smell of autumn in a summer evening, and in the heat it flees to the mountains.
Summer never dies. It sinks into the ground; in the depths, winter buds form in sheltered places and white shoots creep under dead leaves.”
—Terry Pratchett, Wintersmith
Photo by the author, Long Island, March 2016. Camera: Samsung Galaxy S6.