I’m not sure this is a cliche
But it ought to be. Bare branches (with or without the snow) against a clear sky are to me some of the most natural sights to be found. Our ancestors grew to humanhood in the forest and the forest remains, in our deepest brain, the arch-type of both the best and the worst of places to be. It’s comforting under an overspread tree, it’s frightening amidst choking dense trunks at twilight.