Waiting for the Light of Spring
Spring is coming. The clouds look like a thin, worn blanket frayed at the edges and have several holes that permit patches of brilliant blue to show.
Spring is coming. The clouds look like a thin, worn blanket frayed at the edges and have several holes that permit patches of brilliant blue to show.
I am enjoying the subtle winter morning light. It’s the calm before the storm. The muted winter color palette has its own gentle glow of insular beauty.
I can see where the ancients and mystics say the trees talk to them. The sound of leaves is magical.
Pumpkins, warm apple cider by the fire, cinnamon and pumpkin treats, and cozy clothes are no longer distant memories but anticipated events. Each season has its gifts. September gives us daily gifts reminding us of the beauty of the meld of summer’s end and autumn’s beginning.
Summer is fleeing more quickly than an ice cream cone dripping on a sweltering summer’s day. It’s hard to believe it’s the end of August and that we’ll greet September in just a few days