Two strangers

Two strangers, orig­i­nally uploaded by Thorsten Becker. Two strangers, on that path ahead Two strangers, hand in hand Walk beneath Two strangers, tall and grand Who also hold each oth­ers hand, And on that path ahead My love, we shall now tread Two strangers, hand in hand To walk beneath Two strangers, tall and grand ©


Silence of the snow

Silence of the snow, orig­i­nally uploaded by Thorsten Becker. No sound, high or low As I walk through the silence, Silence of the snow © Thorsten Becker


Not all colors fade away

Not all col­ors fade away, orig­i­nally uploaded by Thorsten Becker. Not all col­ors fade away Some defi­antly stay Pro­vid­ing a bright warm bou­quet On a cold win­ter day And so they say: “Look, it is not all dis­may Just note what we, for you, dis­play!” © Thorsten Becker


Snow on wild apples

Snow on wild apples, orig­i­nally uploaded by Thorsten Becker. Autumn’s last days Graced by winter’s first breath Snow on wild apples © Thorsten Becker


Woodland creatures features – Part 4

Wood­land crea­tures fea­tures – Part 4, orig­i­nally uploaded by Thorsten Becker. After we’ve sat in silence for a while, exchang­ing mus­ter­ing glance’ The prince of deers began con­vers­ing with me, stand­ing in solid stance “I much desire to ask you a ques­tion, long it has been on my mind Please do tell, do not be


Woodland creatures features – Part 3

Wood­land crea­tures fea­tures – Part 3, orig­i­nally uploaded by Thorsten Becker. Still at a dis­tance, over there, close to age old oak trees thick and tall, watch­ing, observ­ing my every move, uncer­tain of my inten­tions, am I here to con­verse or to enthrall? I move closer, assuredly, calmly, respect­fully. One of them, but not of


As the colors wash from the trees, touched by autumn light

As the col­ors wash from the trees, touched by autumn light, orig­i­nally uploaded by Thorsten Becker. As the col­ors wash from the trees, touched by autumn light As the black­birds sing their final ser­e­nades in the late after­noon hours As red squir­rels hurry through crum­bling leaves to find their hid­den stacks Of acorns ripe and