A Spring tree is the opposite of an Impressionist painting. In looking at an Impressionist painting, when you walk up close, it becomes very abstract. When you step back, it comes together. Spring trees with their sprouting leaves from a distance become an abstract tangle of lines with a haze of dots, dashes, and splashes of green. Up close they reveal their structure. Newborn leaves hatch in orgami folds made by fairy fingers. Unfolding to their embryonic purpose like butterfly wings. Delicately birthing themselves to the light and the hope that is spring. Poised in this moment of continual change, we stop for a moment to note the liminal time between the sleep of winter's dreams and the waking of summer's play.