Yesterday's walk in March woods was a poke in the eye. 

Yet, somehow, this morning, after all that whining and grumbling, stagnation and loss, I see all that's lovely and pulsing with energy:

Bark flakes off trees like exquisitely aged fine patches of skin

Ice bubbles cradle a newborn life

I'm kneeling and listening – here's the shusshing heart of a brook

Lichen unspools like thread, pale green on bright white

The landscape, the weather, unchanged; all the signs and symbols I see are a revelation; somehow, it's my vision - because of the poking? – that's fresh and renewed.

All photos and text copyright Kelly DuMar 2017