The smile of a new day is written across the Golden Sky. It filters unto the water and then covers the palette that we all hold in our hearts. A deep breath and a smile that almost touches my ears awaken the colors that are in my soul. They compliment the pallet of the sky because I have been saving these zesty shades of colors for a while. Now I have enough not only to see, but also feel the colors of happiness that are in my life.
Today's December rain washed away November's snow and exposed the green grass that was not ready to go. How long will the green survive if there is no warmth to massage the blades of colored grass?
I think the green will melt into the fridgit ground and hide until it is safe to climb back up every brown stem.We must wait and wait for the magic to turn the tierd brown into an emerald green carpet of spring. We must have the patience of nature and one morning we will see the green, with a fresh dew magnifing each stem. The fresh perfume of the grass announces that it has arrived and it is time to tickle your toes as you walk bearfoot through the velvity green grass of spring.
I have heard that people call others, "bird brains" which is an insult to us all. It's not how big your brain is but whether you use any of it all.
It seems every palm tree has a partner to dance with. The long delicate branches sway on top of the pencil like trunks that were manicured all the way up to the finger like leaves, and they are undulating to the music in the sky.
The sun doesn't penatrate the tops of the trees but only casts shadows on the ground below that mimic the dance in the sky.
If you happen to pass by, the shadows
seem to tickle and touch you to say hi.
Yes, these trees have a special talent. They make you feel that life is moving in slow motion and puts you in a special place under the melody of the sun.
As I stumbled to my car this morning, I noticed the windows once again were crazed with confusion. The front window looked like it was shattered in every direction by a beam of light which could not penetrate the glass to the other side.
Nature didn't seem to capture the rays of light, they only pummeled down and disappeared into the frostbitten air.
Where is the warmth that rides on the cheeks of the sun, even on a cloudy day?
.
Maybe the same question was spelled out on my car window today, and that is why it was crazed with written confusion, awaiting a summer day
It was nearing the end of a long snowy winter season, but spring was still covered with a thick blanket of powdery snow, which looked like a newly made bed and was not ready to let go. The soldier like trees stood at attention and were crackling from a gentle but confusing icy breeze. It was time for soft noises made from newly born buds on branches, which were dancing at the top of the trees. The crocus and the spring wild mushrooms popping their heads up from the ground usually encircle almost every tree, but there is nothing like that. It's only winter snow that just won't let go. I see no growth of flowers because they are covered by a white quilt of snow. I hope the blanket keeps them warm and slowly uncovers colors hidden by the simingly opaque snow.
The days slither away, and the fingers of winter release its choke hold on spring. The wet snow starts to disappear and melts into the forest ground.
The footprint of a moose that was buried deep in the snow now appears on the muddy woodland floor. It's time for spring to take over and bring back the colors that winter had erased.
It seems forever, but spring has taken over. Now, the colors of the forest blend perfectly into the valley, but they both have their own personality. 
The air seems happy, and the birds sound like a choir that harmonizes with the song in my heart.
Now, I am happy and ready to walk through the forest in my life