The Twilight Saga

So this is impossible to describe. But I will try because I am haunted by the spectre of Spring. Each day brings visible change. Each brush stroke of light breathes life into the landscape. Driving down the freeway and watching the trees fly by, I am continually amazed by patterns and colors that there are no words to describe. A tall cottonwood tree growing next to a field. You can see the grey structure of it, but it is veiled in spotted green. Big leaf maples that dot the hills are a burnshed gold in the fall. Now they are a wispy yellow-green with a hint of gold. The light washes across them and bleaches them to faded lemon yellow. Evergreens of fir, cedar, and hemlock create a dark green backdrop to every shade of spring green beyond imagination. The undergrowth of the forest has such a coating of fresh green, that I wish I was a deer so that I could eat the leaves one by one. Crows fly over carrying branches. There is so much singing in the trees. As much as we are led to believe that we are disconnected from the natural world, I don't believe it. I feel spring rise in me as much as the trees feel their sap rising. I can almost feel leaves unfolding from my fingers. And the sun is a god that caresses me with joy.

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