The bare branches of a tree, stark against a morning sky. Only had my iPhone with me, which lends some credence to the school of thought that the best camera is the one with you.

Sometimes our fate resembles a fruit tree in winter.
Who would think that those branches would turn green again and blossom,
but we hope it, we know it.
– Goethe

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.
– Hebrews 11:1