Holy

It's about an hour past sunrise on an incredibly beautiful morning here. I hesitate to use the word "perfect" but I think the only thing wrong with it is that we're supposed to be planting two hundred trees today.

***
Sometimes clouds pass over the moon in a way that leaves the night full of holes, smoke-ringed windows through which the stars magically come and go. Last night was one of those nights. I could watch a sky like that for hours...

Back to the half-moon, I rested my elbows on the garden fence and shed a few tears at all this beauty and sadness. The cat stood in my moonshadow, caressing it with her tail. I spoke and she trotted over to my feet, eager for affection, as I reached through the wires to touch her little head. She's a bit wild, that one, but she'd have followed me anywhere, right then. It's good to have a companion, roaming the night.

***
There's something about the way a White Pine shimmers in the morning light that makes it easier to start the day. This morning I walked downstairs and looked out the front door to see a Sandhill Crane gliding out over the yard toward the Oak Grove, which I took as a good sign. We have a long day's work ahead of us.