Today at 7:10 a.m.
I stand at my open windows, both hands wrapped around my favorite tea mug. Yes, the one with a small chip in the handle. Have I not mentioned this imperfection before?
Another time, then.
Steam rises from the hot tea and joins the mist outside. I stand witness, in wonderment as mist rises and weaves through the trees in my woodlands—more like an ancient forest this morning. Birds are in full voice, a chorus of song, never the same. Trees leaf out before my eyes. Flowers appear.
Cherry blossoms, everywhere!
Does this extravaganza happen overnight?
One day, nothing catches the eye. In the wake of morning, Mother Earth speaks softly, offering her gifts of spring.
Still.
About the Art
Title: ‘Our Rural Cemetery’
Copyright: 2023
Artist: Lee Anne Morgan