It's winter now and their leaves have fallen. Adorned with only drops of water catching what was left of the sun, their frailty catches my attention. It makes me wonder how this building would look in the summer, to have living trees surviving the decrepitude of man-made walls and towering lumber. How did their seeds find themselves beneath wooden floors, just in time for a ruined building to give away in order for them to take root? How interesting to find these three brothers planted in such a straight line, almost like a death sentence. These trees aren't tall and somehow I suspect they are older than they seem. It would be interesting to come back and see how they are in the spring and how they flourish in the summer. The light would be different then. Not so lonely. But right now, in this cold dark afternoon, their naked resilience is strangely beautiful.
