Nature will bear the closest inspection.
She invites us to lay our eye level with her smallest leaf,
and take an insect view of its plain.
Henry David Thoreau
A few leaves of silver-green
appear in the tangled branches of ancient apple trees,
near a clearing in the heart of the woods.
As we walk by,
the leaves and I are shivering in the morning air.
I pull my hands up into the sleeves of my bulky sweater,
but my canine companion is comfortable in his fur coat.
It appears that the sand-cherry trees have burst into flame,
Their bitter fruit are only pleasing to birds,
but their prayer-flag leaves are a celebration.
Beneath a tall maple,
I stand and listen to the wind.
I am still,
but the green maple flowers are dancing.
Red twigged dogwood stems
echo the scarlet tones of these showy leaves.
The delicate blossoms blush as they are held up to the light.
Some trees hide their lemon-lime bouquets of foliage in the shade,
while others stretch their branches out like an offering to the meadow.
In the wetlands, the perfect blue of the sky,
is reflected by the shallow water.
Micah likes to wade in,
dragging his belly in the fragrant muck,
but I prefer to stand at the edge
and listen to the chattering of the birds
and the fluttering of the leaves.
Wherever you are, whatever the weather, I wish you serenity.
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