the last rays of sunlight

I am always astounded by the artwork Mother Nature produces, without the hand of man to interfere. The simplicity of a weathered railroad tie, grayed by the elements, the silky feathered texture of moss, the dry crumble of a bygone Autumn leaf. 

I stepped outside to take pictures as the last of the golden afternoon light was brushing the tips of the garden. Winter in the Southern United States is such a dull time for natural photographs, and I spent some moments looking balefully at the brown carpet of leaves and the patches of mud, the somber grey tree trunks. Then I thought to follow the sunlight, what was she gently kissing with the last rays of her warmth? Surrounded by trees, bare though they are, it can be hard for her to reach much at the end of the day. But she stretched out her warm rays to brush the railroad ties that shore up the crumbling bank in the front yard. Covered in bright green, feathered moss and silver lichen bearing tiny red blooms, the light seemed to tip it with gold, making even the most ordinary railroad tie beautiful.