From where I stand . . .

The sky is streaked in french lavender and porcelain blue.

There are hundreds of Birch on the banks of the Chena River with one perfect circle of buttery light in its black and white center.

The leaves, upright in frozen air, tiny hearts against an opening of sky.



There are wild leaps of dogs in fresh snow.

There is warmth felt from the rise in temperatures from days of twenty below.



Treelines are washed in a sleepy golden glow and
peach colored mountains sit on the horizon.