I never tire of just sitting and watching how the sun illuminates and changes the look of the forest as it moves across the sky. In all seasons, the shifting, changing light can make me see familiar things in a brand new way, but I think this effect might be at its most spectacular in autumn. This tree is bare now, the leaves strewn carelessly here and there by the wind. But I think she knows that, after a brief sleep, her glory will return in the spring when she is covered in hundreds of creamy pearl white blossoms, then the emerald leaves of summer and then, once again, the ephemeral citrine, peridot, topaz and ruby jewels of autumn.
A brief domestic interlude
1 hour ago