The Light on the hills this morning

On the tamaracks really, those miraculous trees up the rise, deciduous needled trees, turning yellow now, that greeted us the first time we looked at this house Thanksgiving week 5 years ago. I thought the whole bank of trees was dead, not a good omen for the place, but was educated to the contrary. Tamaracks. Eastern Larch. They lose their needles late autumn and then in the spring, tender lime green curlycues unfold like a slow magicians magic trick. "Nuthin' up my sleeve. Or should I say branch." And today, this morning, the tamaracks are one with the sun, basking their yellow skyward. Glorious. Bunched in together with a spruce and a couple fir, a choir of trees, posing for a picture, squeezing in from all sides for the best possible showing. I needed that view, caught in a frustrating search for lost glasses, putting too much energy toward that pursuit, needing a release from the grip of something petty and small and a release appeared just out the window. A small thing, taking time to take in the sun on the trees, which helped me see far better than bifocals would. And the glasses will show up, sooner or later - I'd prefer sooner - in the most unlikeliest of places probably, another lesson to be more aware (grrrr!).

The sun's creeping down the rise now. I'm going to go out and enjoy the day. 400 daffodils to plant.