Trees at Dusk

I enjoy observing the shades, shapes and textures of leaves that adorn trees, but there is something about a bare tree which always makes me stop and observe. Especially  when I see such trees in low light times, like at dawn or dusk, their personalities stands out. Each such sight calls for a painting to be created.

I stand tall and bare, With no more leaves to spare

I came across a few lines from a poem by Sara Teasdale,  called 'The Tree' and found them very touching.

Oh to be free of myself
With nothing left to remember,
To have my heart as bare
As a tree in December
Resting, as a tree rests
After its leaves are gone,
Waiting no more for a rain at night
Nor for the red at dawn