Thursday's weather (in the 70's, for goodness sake) required that I get out for a bit of a walk. Time to see what there is to see.
A lone chair, perfect for far-gazing
at the folded mountains and the blue, blue sky.
The hellebores are almost ready to open.
Into the woods for tree-framed views.
The nettle patch at wood's edge is coming back -- I look forward to nettle soup in the spring.
Here and there the red haze of budding trees whispers of the turning seasons,
Even as a dried ironweed blooms tell of winter's persistence. I was charmed by the ripple of shadows on the garden tiers. I don't remember noticing this phenomenon before. Always the same. Always new.
