But winter is sneaky in her beauty. We don't often have the beautiful snow covered fields and trees here in the Northwest. When we do, it is stunning. Mostly, we have a lot of gray clouds and rain.
Driving home from an errand today, I discovered that my eyes were seeing more. I saw beautiful tree limbs and branches. The sky's color outlined and accentuated the patterns that the overlapping twigs created. The sky was bright, and I could only barely discern depth. The tree branches had become intricate dark etchings on the sky. In the sun breaks, I could see that the colors did not leave with the fall leaves. The bark on the trees and shrubs are of the rainbow. There isn't a color missing; brilliant wine, soft green, rusty orange, white, pale red and faded blue.
Spring starts more subtly and quietly than we think. It's February. Spring isn't yet here. However, she has sent her trumpeters to begin the announcing triumphant bugle calls. Near my house, there is a nice grove of alder, aspen and maple trees. They are tall and tower over the street. If you drop your gaze half way down their trunks, you'll see maple bushes. Their limbs are thin and many. There is no main trunk that they spring from. I've watched them over the past weeks. They have tiny small dark buds. Each time I pass them by, I feel like I'm watching a sped up time-lapse camera shot like they show on PBS or Discovery Channel. I can almost see them quivering and growing. I've watched the buds turn pale and swell. The swelling continues. I can hardly imagine that it will take months for them to burst open with their leaves. And yet, I know it is months until spring will arrive. And still, the bugle horns are already sounding,
