Terce

The heart, that's the thing that trots around, delighting in the first jolt of brisk morning air in lungs now accoustomed to house warmth. And then drawn by movement to the feral cat, which now warily surveys the yard to assure herself that no dog is present to harrass her with barking as she follows her morning rounds. There is so much to love in the country.

• The dense tapestry of 'silence' which allows the ear to notice the sound of fir needles clapping softly in the wind.
• The mustard ochre of dangling seed pods on the top of the tree whose species is as yet unidentified.
• The dense branching of moss covered alder soaring 40 feet toward heaven
• The little elderberry shrub which will soon be covered with flowers, then berries, and then the birds feast until they are all gone.

Today I will plant at least one apple tree to start our Belgian fence. I never before noticed that the apple bark of young trees has a rowan tinge and is freckled with tiny yellow or greenish dots. But now I've looked and truly seen. More than a billion gifts of creation in a brief few moments.